


Intertwined

by golden_redhead



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, because my OT3 deserves some love and recognition, saioumota ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-05-03 08:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 20,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14564931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_redhead/pseuds/golden_redhead
Summary: [Ch29 - Distraction - Modern AU Oumota][Ch30 - Observing - HPA AU Oumota][Ch31 - Pretending - VR AU Saioumota]What Kaito and Shuichi have is easy.It comes naturally to them, making their faces all soft and painting them with warmth and affection so clear that Kokichi feels like turning away and gagging into his clenched fist. There’s something disgusting and almost obnoxious about how smitten they both are. But no matter how much he wants to avert his gaze and march out of the room whenever that happens - he stays and he stares. And then stares some more, mesmerized. Because what they have is also beautiful, even if painfully so. The affection they share reeks of sincerity and even though Kokichi’s never been allergic to anything - he surely must be allergic to that because it makes his eyes all glazed, nose runny and honestly, he should probably go see a doctor or something.





	1. Stars - Domestic AU Saioumota

 

Shuichi used to love stars.

 

After long working days he would look up at the dark expanse of the sky on his way back home and trace the stars and constellations with his eyes, remembering all the stories that Kaito told him and Kokichi about them. These used to be Shuichi’s favorite nights, when they would just huddle up together on their small balcony under one of Kaito’s many galaxy-themed blankets and stare at the sky as Kaito rambles excitedly and waves his hands around, his fingertips drawing patterns that Shuichi’s eyes can barely follow. He would press close to Kaito’s warmth, squeezing Kokichi’s hand as it rests across Kaito’s lap, making him feel safe and loved. Making them feel connected.

 

Nowadays, Shuichi doesn’t know how to feel about stars.

 

Some part of him still loves them as he can’t bring himself to hate something that Kaito adores with such sincerity and passion. Kaito’s love towards everything even slightly related to space is a lively and beautiful force. He never looks quite as handsome as when he delivers his numerous declarations of love, eyes wide and full of life and lips stretched in a grin. And even though Kokichi would tease Kaito mercilessly about being a too easily excitable idiot, Shuichi notices the crinkling of his eyes, when he stares at Kaito with undeniable fodness.

 

Nonetheless, something changed and he’s unable to look at the stars in the same way he did before. For a long time he couldn’t tell what exactly changed. Instead, he would act as if nothing happened, hoping that it’s not going to impact his relationship with Kaito too much, that it’s just going to pass, so he can love the stars again and stop feeling this paralyzing sense of dread whenever he thinks about them or sees their soft glow during the night.

 

He can tell that Kokichi feels the same way, even though they never talk about it. He’s learned long ago to be attentive to little things, subtle changes in his boyfriend’s behaviour and barely noticeable flickers of emotions in his expressions. Every time anything connected with Kaito’s dream of stars comes up in a conversation a cold glint would flicker through Kokichi’s eyes and his usually harmless jokes and remarks would suddenly become much harsher. Shuichi can never bring himself to scold him for that, even if he can see a momentary glimmer of hurt flash across Kaito’s face when that happens. As always, Kaito bounces back to his usual cheerful self abnormally fast and all three of them continue this game of pretend, acting as if there is nothing to discuss.

 

It takes quite some time, but Shuichi is a true detective at heart and so he figures it out eventually. It’s so obvious, really, that at first he just lets out a surprised laugh at the realization, surprised that it took him so long. However, the laughter quickly dies in his throat as his brain slowly processes the information.

 

And so the next time they end up on their small balcony, fingers warm and intertwined together and bodies pressed close, he looks up at the stars and knows that one day they will take Kaito away, to a place where he and Kokichi can’t follow.

 

For now all he can do is stifle this dull and aching feeling in his chest and press closer to Kaito, head resting on his broad chest and listening to a steady sound of his boyfriend’s heartbeat.

 

And for now that is enough.


	2. Popcorn - Domestic AU Saioumota

Shuichi sighed heavily, removing another piece of popcorn from Kokichi’s hair and adding it to the growing pile in a bowl next to him. The whole room looked like a disaster, popcorn stuck to every surface in the room after Kokichi and Kaito’s popcorn fight. This isn’t exactly what Shuichi had in mind when he suggested that they all just sit down and watch a movie together. He hoped for a calm and pleasant evening with some sleepy cuddles and lazy conversations about everything and nothing. Instead, now he had to deal with cleaning the mess made by his two precious idiots.

 

Kokichi was humming under his breath, surprisingly still as Shuichi was slowly trying to make his hair popcorn-free again.

 

“You know that Kaito isn’t going to forgive you for getting butter in his hair, right?”

 

Kokichi giggled in response.

 

“Well, it’s his own fault for rising to the bait so easily!” He informed Shuichi cheerily.

 

Shuichi only hummed in response. He really didn’t know what to say to that. It was true that Kokichi knew how to get Kaito to react exactly how he wanted him to react. He focused on the task at hand, not really expecting that Kokichi would continue the conversation. He was genuinely surprised when after a moment of silence Kokichi spoke up again.

 

“But hey, at least he’s no longer worrying about this stupid exam.” His voice was quiet and surprisingly soft. Shuichi wouldn’t have heard that if it wasn’t for the fact that they were pressed so close together.

 

_ Ah, _ thought Shuichi,  _ so that’s what it was all about... _

 

The last few weeks have been very stressful for Kaito as he was preparing for an exam that would help him start his astronaut training faster. He was spending all of his free time cramming for the exam, his desk slowly becoming an uncontrollable mess of notes and empty energy drink cans.

 

Shuichi thought that the worst was behind them when the day of the exam came, but waiting for the grade turned out to be even more stressful for his boyfriend. He became irritable and moody, something Shuichi has never really seen before. Kaito always emanated warmth and optimism, at least to him. This new Kaito was so different from his usual self… All of that made Shuichi wonder just how much of Kaito’s normal behaviour was just a mask, an outer shell. 

 

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Kokichi’s head.

 

“Thank you for distracting him.” He muttered quietly into his boyfriend’s hair, wincing internally at the taste of salty butter in his mouth.

 

“Nishishi. Anytime, my beloved Shuichi!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm doing this small challenge on my Tumblr, where you can send me an AU setting and a ship (Oumota or Saioumota) and I'll write a short ficlet! You can find more info and send your requests here: http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/post/174763548679/oumota-saioumota-aus


	3. A Magic Lamp - Aladdin AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well,” Kokichi flashed him a grin, “that was fun!”
> 
> Kaito chuckled, hope blossoming in his chest. “You really think so?”
> 
> “Yeeep~! That magic carpet of yours isn’t boring at all!”

Kokichi gently caressed the soft material of the magic carpet before jumping off and landing gracefully on the marble floor of the palace’s balcony. His cheeks were flushed from the cool night air that whipped against his face and the lingering feelings of excitement. Kaito couldn’t help staring at the prince, mesmerized by his porcelain-like skin and those big eyes shimmering with various shades of purple.

“Well,” Kokichi flashed him a grin, “that was fun!”

Kaito chuckled, hope blossoming in his chest. “You really think so?”

“Yeeep~! That magic carpet of yours isn’t boring at all!” 

Kokichi clearly couldn’t help himself as he reached out his hand and started to pat the flying carpet, which immediately responded to the affectionate gesture by leaning into Kokichi’s touch. The prince giggled happily and Kaito had to resist the sudden urge to press his hand to his chest to calm the pounding of his heart. 

He felt bad about lying to the prince, but he knew that he wouldn’t even look at a street rat like him if it wasn’t for the Genie’s disguise. He had nothing to offer to the prince who had everything. He was a dirty thief with no place to live and broken dreams of reaching the stars. If it weren’t for this magic wish he would never even dare to set foot within a mile of the palace. He could feel his heart twisting painfully knowing that even this is just a temporary, false reality. Sure, it felt nice to pretend to be royalty. It felt nice to not have to beg and lie and steal to get some food, to survive another day. But no matter how nice it felt, deep inside Kaito knew that it simply wasn’t right. Sure, he was the one to make that wish, but he never intended to live a lie. At least not in the long run. 

Suddenly he could feel a pair of calculating eyes on him and he froze in place under Kokichi’s scrutinizing gaze. 

He gulped, mentally bracing himself for what was to come.

“Um… Kokichi?”

“Yes, my beloved Momota-chan?” Kokichi batted his eyelashes in a deceitfully innocent manner. 

“I… I have something to confess.”

Kokichi gasped dramatically. 

“No confessions of undying love until you at least take me to dinner, my beloved! Don’t you even think that taking me on a flight on a magical carpet is enough to woo me, nuh-uh!” 

“Whaaa---No! Hey, I’m trying to be serious here!”

Kokichi snickered, clearly very pleased with himself. 

Kaito frowned. He eyed the young prince in a wary way, as if trying to predict how likely it was that Kokichi would try to interrupt him again. When all the prince did was just continue to look at him innocently with those mesmerizing purple eyes of his Kaito sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, successfully messing up his signature hairstyle.

Finally mustering up the courage he needed, he reached into his pocket and slowly took out the magic lamp. Stuttering at first he slowly started to tell his story, his eyes never leaving the lamp clutched in his hands. 

When the last word left his mouth Kaito shut his eyes tightly. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest and his hands were sweaty, his grip on the lamp never loosening. He was convinced that Kokichi didn’t believe him at all and that soon the guards will be on their way to either lock him up in jail or in a mental institution. To his utmost surprise however, when he finally dared to open his eyes... He was met with Kokichi’s blank face. 

They stood like that for a long moment in complete silence, their eyes locked. Kaito could feel himself sweating and he had to fight the urge to run away from here and never look back. Before he could do that, however, Kokichi leaned in without warning, never once breaking the eye contact. His face wasn’t a blank canvas anymore and Kaito felt a wave of relief wash over him. He let his warm breath tickle Kaito’s face. He was so close that Kaito could easily count the pale little freckles adorning his skin. 

“What if I told you that all of this,” Kokichi gestured lazily to first to himself and then to the palace, his eyes never leaving Kaito’s face. “Is a lie, too?”

Kaito’s eyes widened as he was slowly processing the words, not quite sure what Kokichi was trying to tell him. Before he could ask Kokichi sent him a sly smile and put a finger on Kaito’s mouth in a shushing manner. 

“Let me show you something, my beloved.”

He reached into the pocket of his jewel-adorned pants and slowly took out something. It was shiningly softly in the dim light of the evening and it took Kaito a moment to realize what exactly he was looking at. He let out a quiet gasp of shock, lifting his head and staring at Kokichi, eyes full of disbelief.

“Nishishi! I’m sorry to disappoint you, Momota-chan, but you’re not the only liar with a magic lamp around here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got the request asking for an Oumota Aladdin!AU and at first I didn't really know how to write it?? And then, well... that happened. It's probably a rather unusual approach but I feel like it fits their characters well? Especially considering the theme of the game. But dunno, let me know what you think!  
> _________________________  
> Again, thanks for @asteril for being my beta!  
> And I'm still doing the 'send me an AU setting and I'll write you a Saioumota or Oumota fic' thing on my Tumblr! http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/


	4. Hurting - Saimota

Shuichi shifted nervously next to Kaito, sending his boyfriend an uncertain glance.

Kaito’s shoulders were slightly hunched and he was looking straight ahead at the casket. He was unusually still next to Shuichi, the look on his face unreadable. Shuichi has never seen his this serious, this lost in his own thoughts and yet determined to act as if everything is alright. He had no idea how to approach this Kaito. Since the moment they received the news about his grandmother passing Kaito started to practice the act of pretending. Shuichi was pretty sure that someone who doesn’t know Kaito very well would say that he’s taking all of this exceptionally well. Shuichi, however… Shuichi knows.

He can recognize the tension in his boyfriend’s shoulders that haven’t been there before. He can see this wide cheerful smile of Kaito faltering when he thinks no one is looking. He can notice the glassy eyes and a very telling rim of redness around them.

Despite Kaito’s best efforts, Shuichi can tell that he’s hurting, struggling to cover it up with his usual warm and encouraging smiles and overly cheerful attitude.

Because it’s Shuichi who can see him breaking down, falling hard on the concrete and barely holding it all in. He’s the one to see Kaito shaking at night under their galaxy blanket, sheets clutched tightly and silent sobs wracking through his body. It’s Shuichi who lifts the covers gently, hands roaming over the expanse of Kaito’s chest and gingerly helping him take off the binder that Kaito recklessly left for way too long.

It’s Shuichi who pretends that nothing happened the morning after, because he knows Kaito well, probably even better than Kaito knows himself.

And so he stands with Kaito through all of this, bodies pressed close together as the funeral ceremony proceeds. He lets him pretend and fall apart in silence during the day, because he gets to be there at night, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder blades and whispering sweet nothings into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the request asking for Shuichi comforting Kaito. It's probably a bit too heavy on the Hurt part, but honestly, the way I see it Kaito is the kind of person who would pretend that he's okay until it practically kills him. Because, honestly. Canon.


	5. Werewolf Kaito AU - saioumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 3-5 sentences fic AU prompt thingy. The prompt was "werewolf! Kaito" c:

Shuichi always knew that Kokichi has an exceptional talent when it comes to putting himself in crazy and dangerous situations, but how he managed to end up with the fangs of the leader of the most vicious vampire clan in the country pressed against his neck was simply beyond him.

Kokichi’s lips were stretched in a wide grin and if it weren’t for the barely noticeable shaking of his hands Shuichi would have been fooled that his smaller boyfriend had everything under control.

“Don’t you fucking dare! Keep your filthy dead hands off him or I’ll rip you apart!” Kaito was practically seething with anger. Never taking his eyes off Kokichi’s pale form he gently pushed Shuichi behind him in a protective manner and took a step forward.

Slowly he started to transform, limbs getting longer, hair sprouting all over his body, fingernails turning into claws. Shuichi closed his eyes tightly hearing the familiar sickening sound of bones snapping into new positions, closely followed by an animalistic growl of a predator ready to attack.

All Shuichi could do now was pray that somehow they will get out of this alive.


	6. Please - Virtual Reality AU Saioumota

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the "A VR AU (like in SDR2) where Shuichi waits for his boyfriends to wake up from their coma after the killing game is over." prompt that I received on Tumblr.

Shuichi presses his forehead to the cool surface of Kaito’s pod and closes his eyes tightly.

 

The room is quiet with only the hushed humming of the machines disturbing the silence. Every few hours someone would come to check on Shuichi, bring him food or try to convince him to go to his room and rest, sleep in an actual bed for once. Shuichi almost laughs at the idea. There was no such thing as sleep for him, not anymore. Everytime he dares to close his eyes, nightmarish visions swarm his senses, trapping him in a mess of nightmares produced by his perpetually exhausted mind.

 

As if his life wasn’t already a nightmare.

 

It was some kind of cruel joke, the fact that two people he was waiting to wake up the most happened to be the ones that had yet to wake up, while the rest of their classmates was already out of the mechanical insides of the pods, slowly learning how to live again. Both Kokichi and Kaito are still trapped in the clutches of the reality filled with the rusty and nauseating smell of blood, bodies piled one on top of the other, death omnipresent. This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair at all. But then again, it’s not like anything about this situation was ever fair.

 

Of course, Shuichi knows why it’s taking so long. One of the nurses explained to him patiently that because of his in-game disease Kaito would take longer to wake up as his body is still battling an imaginary illness. The same illness Team Danganronpa implanted in him, just so they would get squeeze some unnecessary drama out of this already despairful storyline. Just so Shuichi and others would suffer more than they already did. Kaito was never meant to be one of the survivors and the thought makes Shuichi feel sick to his stomach.

 

Shuichi opens his eyes and lifts his head. He looks at Kaito’s face, slightly distorted by the glassy lid of the pod. The other teen looks surprisingly calm in the confinement of the machinery that is keeping him alive. There is a shadow of a smile on his face, muscles relaxed and eyelashes fluttering delicately, even though they never fully lift to reveal the familiar mauvish crimson of Kaito’s eyes. Shuichi hopes with all his heart that whatever Kaito is dreaming about is something pleasant, like stars covering the wide expanse of the night sky, beautiful and bright and within his reach.

 

The detective sighs quietly and lets his eyes drift in the direction of the other still occupied pod. He feels the familiar pang of guilt, as always when he thinks about the ex-supreme leader.

 

He should have known better, he knows that now. _‘You are alone, Kokichi. And you always will be_ ’ echoes in his mind and he feels dizzy, anger — at the unfairness of this world that he’s designed to live in, but most importantly at himself — swelling in his throat.  

 

Kokichi looks downright miserable trapped inside his pod.

 

Somehow he looks even smaller than Shuichi remembers, sharp bones painfully visible on almost transparent paleness of his cheeks. The dark strands are plastered to his face, pale lips stretched in a grimace. _He looks like he’s in pain,_ thinks Shuichi, _trapped in a never-ending nightmare_. Shuichi wishes that he could reach out and just caress his skin gently, take away the pain, erase the memories of hell they went through from Ouma’s brilliant mind.

 

The feeling of guilt is crushing and soon it becomes unbearable and he forces his eyes away from Kokichi’s still form, his lower lip trembling.

 

“Please,” mutters Shuichi brokenly as he feels hot tears streaming down his face. “Please, wake up soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5am here and I haven't slept in two days, but I just wanted to post it before going to bed. I hope it's readable.


	7. Pain - Superhero AU Saioumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 'saioumota superhero AU' prompt from Tumblr!

Ouma gently supports Saihara’s head, blood sipping through the dark strands of the detective’s hair and staining Ouma’s fingers crimson.

 

He hears the screams behind his back, a mess of unrecognizable voices filled with panic and desperately pleading for help. It’s a hell out there, bodies piled up on the ground, people stumbling over them in panic and slipping on the slippery path of blood. The villain cackles somewhere in the background, the sound of it loud and clear and plainly _mocking_.

 

A moment passes, then a second, hell continues to break loose all around them, and then the sound of Momota’s voice raises above it all, piercing through the air thick with the smell of blood. It’s embarrassing, the way Ouma’s heart jumps a little in his chest at that voice, at the confidence it carries. No matter how mercilessly he teases him about it - Momota is the real hero. Even now he faces the danger with no hesitation, brave and proud and everything Ouma’s _not_.

 

He hugs Saihara’s limp body closer to himself, curling around him in a desperate attempt to find some comfort and strength in the closeness of their bodies pressed together.

 

“You shouldn’t even be here,” he mutters angrily into the front of Saihara’s shirt, now dirty and covered with blood. Saihara’s place was never on the battlefield.

 

Ouma gently puts the other boy on the ground, wincing at the sight of an open, gashing wound on his forehead. Reluctantly, he reaches out his hand and caresses the detective’s cheek, worriedly noting just how cold it is. He inhales, desperate to calm his strained nerves and then exhales slowly.

 

And then he makes up his mind.

 

For a moment everything is still. For a moment he remains deaf and blind to the screams and blood and corpses splayed on the ground all around them and lets his hand rest on Saihara’s forehead, right next to his wound. He closes his eyes tightly, bracing himself for what’s to come.

 

It starts innocently enough, just a sting below his hairline, easy to ignore. However, just mere seconds later the steady rhythm of his breaths shatters as sting turns first into a nagging discomfort and then into an incapacitating pain. Everything in Ouma screams to let go, to give up, to realize that nothing and _no one_ is worth going through _this_. He ignores these voices and forces himself to absorb the pain, to prevail, even when he almost sobs at the intensity of it all, pain numbing all of his senses.

 

He grits his teeth, desperately trying to hold back the scream that’s threatening to spill from his mouth. A sudden rush of pain leaves him disoriented and confused. His hands are shaking and despite his attempts to stop it - he can feel the involuntary tears rolling down his face.

 

It feels like a whole eternity passes before he can breathe once more.  

 

The pain is still present, it never truly goes away. However, it’s not an agonizing burn spreading through his veins, not anymore, and he can think again, slowly trying to make some sense out of a scrambled mess of his thoughts.

 

He stands up on shaking legs that are threatening to give out beneath him. His vision is swimming and his head feels too heavy, but now is not the time for feeling sorry for himself, he knows that.

 

He looks at Saihara one last time and tries to convince himself that there is some comfort in the fact that his beloved detective’s face isn’t twisted in a grimace of pain, not anymore.

 

And then he pries his eyes away from Saihara’s motionless body, hating himself for doing that and yet knowing that there’s nothing more that he could do, and turns to follow the sound of Momota’s voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect much more superhero content from me, because I’m weak for this shit. Also, sorry that this is so Ouma-centric, I just craved some Ouma angst ;_;


	8. Cat - College Roommate AU Oumota

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the 'oumota college roommates AU' prompt on Tumblr!

“...What is this?”

 

Kokichi’s smile is way too bright for almost two in the morning. Kaito can already feel the familiar pang of headache building up in his temple. Knowing Kokichi it’s only going to get worse.

 

“This is my illegal cat!”

 

Kaito groans internally, watching as a tiny tricolor blur of a kitten dashes across the room to catch a purple ball of yarn tossed by Kokichi. His roommate is sitting in the middle of the floor cross-legged, his eyes fixed on the small furry creature as it attacks the yarn with unrestrained energy.    

 

“We’re not allowed to keep pets on campus.” He informs Kokichi. He’s meant his voice to sound stern, but it comes out more resigned than anything else; maybe because some part of him already knows that his words are going to fall on deaf ears.

 

“Duh. That’s what makes her illegal, Momota-chan! Try to keep up, please and thank you!”

 

Kaito groans again, this time not even bothering to keep it internal. He has an important exam in less than eight hours and he’s been cramming for the last few days, it’s too early for him to deal with Kokichi’s bullshit.

 

“We can’t keep him.”

 

Kokichi lets out a dramatic gasp.

 

“How dare you misgender my kitty, Momota-chan, you uneducated swine!” Kokichi stands up abruptly and grabs the cat. He lifts her from the ground, pressing the small furry ball to his chest. She lets out a mewl of disapproval, hazel eyes still fixed on the yarn ball, but starts to nuzzle him affectionately, when one of his hands presses against her ear and he starts to scratch it gently.

 

Kaito only lifts one of his eyebrows, clearly too exhausted to react with anything more than that to the insult.

 

“It’s a calico cat,” Kokichi gestures to the kitten purring in his arms, her fur in various shades of black and white and orange. “And calico cats are almost exclusively fe---”

 

“Female, yes. I know. My grandparents have like, ten cats or something, I know everything there is to know about them. It doesn’t matter. We can’t keep the cat.”

 

Kokichi stares at him for a few long seconds, face suddenly devoid of emotions. Kaito has to persist the urge to shudder at the sight, familiar uncomfortable feeling settling low in his stomach. He would never admit it --- at least not out loud ---  but this blank expression taking over Kokichi’s features scares the living hell out of him.

 

And then Kokichi’s lips twitch and stretch in a horrifying imitation of a smile. It looks almost surreal on such an innocent and young-looking face and in Kaito’s opinion it looks more like something that would work on a cartoon supervillain’s face rather than that of an actual person. But before he can make this observation Kokichi opens his mouth.

 

“The cat stays.” His voice is weirdly low and there’s a dangerous --- though Kaito would rather use the word crazy --- note to it.

 

Something in Kaito snaps.

 

“Nuh-uh!”

 

It gets out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Only then does he realize how ineffective his comeback truly is, but at this point it’s too late to take it back.

 

He dares to look at Kokichi. The fucker looks slightly taken aback for a second or two and then his expression shifts into the look of pure amusement.

 

“Nishishi, that’s very eloquent of you, my beloved Momota-chan~! I’m glad that we agree!”

 

Kaito glares at his roommate, who is beaming at him innocently. The kitten seems to be interested in Kokichi’s tentacle-like hair now. She nudges the loose purple strand falling on Kokichi’s shoulder with her tiny paw and some not-so-distant and traitorous part of Kaito’s mind whispers _cute_ as he silently watches Kokichi’s  hair bounce when the boy turns his head to nuzzle the kitten and plant a chaste kiss on the top of her head. Kaito’s never seen Kokichi be this affectionate and careful with anyone and the sight of it makes his heart do weird things, like beat faster and do this… weird fluttery thingy in his chest. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it at all.

 

It feels like another trap that Kokichi set up for him. And he just fell right into it.

 

Some part of him wants to stay and continue to argue. They really can’t keep the cat. They’re both busy, the apartment is empty most of the day. A cat --- especially one as small as this one --- needs to be fed and taken care of and smothered with affection, Kaito knows. Also, knowing Kokichi like he does Kaito is pretty sure that he would end up being the one who has to take care of all the important stuff, like taking the cat to the vet or buying the cat food. Hell, the little shit can hardly feed himself, instead chugging this disgusting grape Panta for every meal, there’s no way that he would be able to take care of another living creature.

 

Besides, rules are rules. Sure, Kaito isn’t exactly the kind of person who would follow them blindly, but Kokichi gets him into enough trouble anyway. He’s so close to having his dreams come true, he can’t let the little gremlin distract him with his bullshit. Not now, when the stars are closer than ever before. All he has to do is reach out his hand.

 

He’s just opening his mouth to tell Kokichi all of that when his eyes fall on the wall behind the other boy’s head and he can feel the panic swelling in his chest when it hits him just how late it is. _Shit._

“Whatever.” He says, resigned. Kokichi tilts his head curiously, probably surprised by the sudden change of tone. “I’m going back to bed and if I fail this exam I’m blaming you.”

 

And with that he stomps into his room not even bothering to look at Kokichi when he sing-songs “nighty-night, Momota-chan~!” behind him.

 

-

 

The next morning Kaito finds Kokichi curled up on their couch, his face uncharacteristically calm and relaxed. There’s a soft smile tugging at his lips and Kaito can feel his own lips twitch slightly at the sight of such an honest expression on his roommate’s face. The kitten is nuzzled in the crook of Kokichi’s neck, its whiskers brushing against his pale cheek and when Kaito comes closer he can hear the quiet purring.

 

The traitorous voice from the night before is back, flooding his poor brain with words like _cute_ and _adorable_ and _why can’t this moment last forever_. He can feel the heat creep up his neck and suddenly he feels immensely grateful for the fact that his roommate is still fast asleep. He doesn’t have time for his teasing. And the worst part is that for once Kokichi’s teasing would probably be justified… After a brief moment of hesitation he fishes the phone out of his pocket and finds the camera icon. He presses it quickly and lifts up the phone aiming it at the figure curled up on the couch. He snaps a few pictures of the sight in front of him, eyes trained on Kokichi’s still form the whole time, almost expecting the boy to jump suddenly and accuse him of being a pervert. Thankfully, nothing like that happens and after a moment Kaito puts his phone back in the pocket and smiles fondly at the boy and his cat one last time before he starts getting ready for the day.

 

Maybe they can keep the cat after all.

  
  



	9. "You won't get me to spill so easily" - Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You won’t get me to spill so easily.
> 
>  
> 
> He remembers saying those words, his face stretched in a cheeky smile and the taste of blood lingering on the tip of his tongue. He remembers a brief and almost amused thought of ‘ugh, I sound just like Momota-chan’ mere seconds before a fist connects with his stomach and the force of the blow sends him to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of torture, kidnapping, bruises, PTSD

 

_You won’t get me to spill so easily._

 

He remembers saying those words, his face stretched in a cheeky smile and the taste of blood lingering on the tip of his tongue. He remembers a brief and almost amused thought of _‘ugh, I sound just like Momota-chan’_ mere seconds before a fist connects with his stomach and the force of the blow sends him to the ground.

 

_You won’t get me to spill so easily._

 

Well, it certainly wasn’t easy.

He remembers the grasp of the shackles around his wrists, heavy and cold and making sure that he stays exactly where he is. When he closes his eyes he can still feel the freezing cold air of the cell they kept him in. Whenever he goes to take a shower and doesn’t turn his head away fast enough while passing the mirror he catches the glimpse of his back, deep angry-red cuts adorning the normally pale skin. The sight of his torso somehow manages to be even worse. The bruises of various colors and sizes are scattered across his skin, purples mingling with the ugly shades of yellow. His ribs can be counted without much trouble, their outlines sharp and easily spotted beneath the nearly-transparent canvas of skin.

 

_You won’t get me to spill so easily._

 

Kokichi winces when a warm body next to him shifts slightly and strong arms wrapped around his waist squeeze him tighter, tan fingers tangling with the thin material of the shirt that he’s wearing to bed. He tenses, his body suddenly completely rigid and swallows down the urge to bolt out of the bed, away from the restricting embrace of warmth that his boyfriend’s body provides. He tries to chase away the nagging thoughts — memories, really — and sink into the dreamless embrace of sleep, but it proves to be a futile attempt as his muscles just refuse to relax. With a soundless sigh he starts to lift his arms to try to gently escape Kaito’s embrace and admit that it’s just a night like many others and that sleep just won’t come to him, so what is even the point—  and then suddenly he freezes abruptly when he catches the sight of Kaito’s skin. Or rather the sight of the cuts and bruises covering it. They are nothing compared to the mess that is Kokichi’s own body, but it’s enough for his heart to twist painfully in his chest and the familiar feeling of guilt to spread through his veins.

 

_You won’t get me to spill so easily._

 

 _You did this_ , whispers some traitorous part of his brain. Because even though it wasn’t easy to make him spill they still managed to do it. It took time and effort — he has countless scars to prove just _how much_ effort — but it was enough. And even if they didn’t get much out of him, it was this one vital piece of information that mattered the most. The one that led them straight to the DICE’s hideout. It slipped past his lips by mistake, one lie taken too far, one day without food too many.

 

_You won’t get me to spill so easily._

 

He remembers Kaito’s hot tears on his face when he found him, feather-like touches of the astronaut’s fingertips brushing against the bruises spread across his collarbones and neck. He remembers the frantic half-whispers — _Kokichi, starshine, look at me, please, please, look at me_ — and lips pressed against his hair. And he remembers this single thought planting its poisonous roots deep inside him, the traitorous _I don’t deserve this_ echoing in his head when Kaito’s arms wrap around him. Because of course this idiot would follow them, of course he would come to his rescue as if he was some kind of damsel in distress.

 

It’s just the way Kaito is and sometimes Kokichi hates him for it.


	10. In the Hangar - Canon Divergence AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma knows that there’s no place for dignity in death.

Ouma stares at Momota as he spasms on the icy cold floor of the exisal hangar, consumed by the poison flowing through his veins and the disease that’s been slowly killing him since the day when this sick game of life and death started.

 

Even in his last moments, the astronaut puts up a fight, stubbornly refuses to be seen in his moment of weakness. He scrambles to the far corner of the bathroom not sparing Ouma even a single glance, his violently shaking hands tugging at his coat, trying to cover himself with it, trying to hide his face, as if in the last desperate act of saving his dignity.

 

Ouma knows that there’s no place for dignity in death.

 

Some cynical part of Ouma tries to convince himself that he should be happy. That this is what he wanted. That everything is exactly how he planned it to be. There was no hope for Momota anyway, he would die sooner than later. And if Ouma tries hard enough then he can almost convince himself that what he did was an act of mercy.  _ Almost. _

 

Maybe he should be happy that at least the killer girl will be finally recognized as who she really is. Maybe it is some kind of twisted karma, a punishment for her crimes and Momota just happens to be the unfortunate spectator who dared to come too close and got hit by an arrow gone astray. A ricochet.

 

It’s a nice thought but Ouma knows that it’s much more likely that Momota is just another proof of Ouma’s own cowardice. And when hours later the investigation starts and the trial unfolds - this will be the one thing that everyone can be sure of.

 

Momota coughs and coughs and coughs and an endless trail of blood drips down his chin, drop after drop, staining the ugly white tiles with crimson. His every breath is accompanied by the harsh wheezing sound and Ouma feels like covering his ears, but he forces himself not to.

 

This is his own punishment. Much more mild than the one he truly deserves.

 

After what feels like hours of the futile fight - Momota finally collapses on the floor completely, legs giving out beneath him, unseeing eyes wide open as he stares at the ceiling. He murmurs something, but it’s too quiet for Ouma to hear. The words that can be names or prayers or just a delirious nonsense of a dying man.

 

Ouma’s pale fingers tighten around the now-empty bottle of antidote – the same antidote that saved him from the grave and sent Momota to his  – and his eyes remain ice cold and unwavering. It’s too late to go back now.

 

He stares and stares as Momota can no longer breath and his face turns white and even more blood spills from his mouth. He chokes on his own blood, a horrifying gurgling sound that doesn’t even sound human anymore. Ouma tries to ignore the nagging thought of  _ it should have been you _ lurking at the back of his head. He almost succeeds.

 

Momota dies right before his eyes and Ouma feels nothing.

 

Nothing at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the trick-or-treat October thingy. I'm still taking requests, more info here: http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/post/178622763944/trick-or-treat


	11. Autumn Evenings - Werewolf!Momota AU Saimota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi loves this time of the year.
> 
> He loves quiet autumn evenings when he can just curl up under the blanket with his favorite book in hands, only the gentle rustle of turning pages and the calming sound of the rain drumming on the window disturbing the perfect silence. Kaito’s head is in his lap, his chest rising and falling steadily and eyes closed as he gets lulled to sleep by Shuichi’s warmth and the sweet aroma of ginger tea slowly getting colder on the nearby table.

Shuichi loves this time of the year. 

 

He loves quiet autumn evenings when he can just curl up under the blanket with his favorite book in hands, only the gentle rustle of turning pages and the calming sound of the rain drumming on the window disturbing the perfect silence. Kaito’s head is in his lap, his chest rising and falling steadily and eyes closed as he gets lulled to sleep by Shuichi’s warmth and the sweet aroma of ginger tea slowly getting colder on the nearby table. 

 

The detective’s eyes skimmer across the yellowish pages of his book and he lets himself be immersed in the fictional world, easily slipping into the role of the protagonist as he investigates the school with red-eyed bears lurking in the shadows and the blood of innocent staining the walls with the ugliest shade of pink. 

 

Kaito lets out a quiet whimper, clinging closer to Shuichi’s waist, nightmares slipping into his dreams. He buries his face in his boyfriend’s sweater, inhaling the comforting smell of his mate. Shuichi’s fingers brush against the soft fur of one of Kaito’s ears instinctively and he starts to scratch it absently, barely even aware of what he’s doing, lost in the moment. It feels nice, this familiar feeling of thick and ruffled hair beneath the tips of his fingers.

 

Kaito’s whimpers subdue, chased away by the warmth of Shuichi’s hands and his tail twitches once, twice and then it starts wagging wildly and Shuichi’s lips stretch in a fond smile. He stiffens a laugh that is threatening to escape his mouth.

 

Shuichi had his doubts when they first started dating, afraid that it wouldn’t work, afraid that there are so many things that he couldn’t understand about his werewolf boyfriend. Things he couldn’t relate to. Things that would slowly create a tension between them and sooner or later Kaito would realize just how different they are, how normal and boring and  _ human  _ Shuichi is. 

 

This, however… he wouldn’t change a thing. 

 

Not when there’s a Kaito-shaped ball of fur curled up around him, tugging at his sweater and sighing softly whenever Shuichi’s nails scratch harder. Not when he has him so trusting and loving and undeniably  _ his _ . 

 

He puts his book away and leans in to press the gentlest of kisses against the furry ear, the feeling of happiness bubbling in his heart. Kaito’s ear twitches slightly at the contact and Shuichi freezes when he feels Kaito stirring, afraid that he has disturbed his peaceful slumber. However, the mauvish red eyes don’t open. Instead, a soft and almost purring-like sound can be heard, the deep quiet rumble building up somewhere in Kaito’s chest. 

 

This time Shuichi can’t quite stop the chuckle.

 

It leaves his lips freely and Kaito’s ear twitches some more, tickled by the delicate brush of Shuichi’s lips and his warm breath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of my trick-or-treat challenge, you can read about it here and request something if you want to! http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/post/178622763944/trick-or-treat
> 
> Also, I'll try to post some saiouma soon!


	12. Pink - Reincarnation AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood is supposed to be red, right? It should be red. There’s a perfectly logical, biological explanation as for why the blood is red. Something about red cells and hemoglobin and oxygen. That’s is how blood has always been. Red.
> 
>  
> 
> Then… why is it pink?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: blood, cutting

Kokichi stares with sickening fascination as a drop of blood collects on his thumb where the knife pierced the skin. It’s not even that much, just a small simple cut, an accident not unlike the others that he had in his life, but there’s something mesmerizing about it, about the way humans can be so easily damaged. There’s a certain beauty to it, one that Kokichi can appreciate. He raises his hand against the light, observing how his blood shimmers in the rays of the sun.

 

His face is perfectly wiped from any emotions, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes dull. It’s an expression practiced through years, a perfect lie. More and more often he feels like it’s a lie that clung to his face a little too well, a little too… permanently. He wonders if it means that this lie is just that good. Or maybe he’s simply losing himself.

 

His eyelashes flutter closed and he takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again they’re more focused, not as glazed over as they were before. There’s a sharpness in them, a sign of a brilliant mind hidden somewhere deep under the surface. He focuses back on the blood. 

 

_ Pink. _

 

Some logical part of him refuses to accept it.

 

After all, blood is supposed to be red, right? It should be red. There’s a perfectly logical, biological explanation as for why the blood is red. Something about red cells and hemoglobin and oxygen. That’s is how blood has always been.  _ Red. _

 

Then… why is it pink? 

 

The grip on the knife that he’s still holding in his hand tightens. Maybe he should investigate it more. Maybe if he cuts the skin at the right angle the color will be finally right...

 

“What the---”

 

Ah, Kaito. 

 

Kokichi doesn’t even raise his eyes to look at the other boy when he enters the kitchen, voice immediately recognizable, his gaze still fixed on the blood that is now dribbling down his forearm, a thin streak of bright pink against the milky-white skin. 

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” chants Kaito’s voice somewhere near his ear moments later, a hint of panic seeping through the words. Long sturdy fingers wrap around Kokichi’s wrist as he pulls him closer to the kitchen sink and shoves the bleeding hand under the faucet. When the cold water hits his palm Kokichi lets out a quiet hiss, more irritated than anything else. 

 

“Shit, what the hell were you thinking?!” Kaito washes the wound carefully and then heads to the cupboard where they keep their first aid kit.

 

Kokichi plasters one of his fakest smiles on his face.

 

“Geez, Momota-chan, dramatic much? It’s just a tiny little cut, nothing compared to that one time when I got shot straight on my liver and left there to die, people pretending to not see, my insides gushing onto the ground and---”

 

“You are way too casual about this stuff,” mutters Kaito irritatedly as he reaches out to grab Kokichi’s arm again and indelicately dabs a soaked-in-alcohol swab against the cut. Kokichi pouts and tries to pull his hand out of his grasp but it’s useless. Kaito’s grip only tightens, so much that it’s almost bordering on painful. 

 

Kokichi gives up with a puff of annoyance. 

 

Typical Kaito, ruining his fun. 

 

And this time it will be harder to find a new knife, too.Kaito’s getting better at hiding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was originally written as a Reincarnation AU but you can also interpret it as Virtual Reality post-game AU ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Thank you @asteril for beta reading it!


	13. Hogsmeade - Hogwarts AU Saioumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hogsmeade is boring anyway,” declares Kokichi with a wide smile as they’re slowly walking in the direction of the gate leading to the wizarding village. He clings to their arms, Kaito on his left and Shuichi on his right. His cheeks are dusted with a rosy blush, courtesy of the cold winter air. Little puffs of frozen air escape his mouth when he talks and his plum-colored hair sticks out in every direction. He stubbornly refuses to wear his hat, despite Shuichi’s gentle encouragement and Kirumi’s not-so-gentle reprimanding.
> 
> Kaito scratches the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically guilty.
> 
> “It really is when you’re not there with us,” he admits.
> 
> “Aww,” coos Kokichi, batting his eyelashes at him. “Woah, Momo-chan is a total sap!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It technically should be in my trick or treat collection but oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ For some reason I felt like it belongs here. Enjoy!

“Hogsmeade is boring anyway,” declares Kokichi with a wide smile as they’re slowly walking in the direction of the gate leading to the wizarding village. He clings to their arms, Kaito on his left and Shuichi on his right. His cheeks are dusted with a rosy blush, courtesy of the cold winter air. Little puffs of frozen air escape his mouth when he talks and his plum-colored hair sticks out in every direction. He stubbornly refuses to wear his hat, despite Shuichi’s gentle encouragement and Kirumi’s not-so-gentle reprimanding.

 

Kaito scratches the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically guilty.

 

“It really is when you’re not there with us,” he admits.

 

“Aww,” coos Kokichi, batting his eyelashes at him. “Woah, Momo-chan is a total sap!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, quit it,” complains Kaito but under the layer of his usual irritation at the other boy’s antics there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips as he reaches out to ruffle the smaller boy’s hair. Kokichi clings closer to Shuichi and pulls away from Kaito with a huff of annoyance and a pouty glare.

 

Shuichi looks at him sadly. 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to bring you something? We could stop by Honeydukes and get you those Fizzing Whizzbees that you like so much.”

 

Kokichi waves his hand dismissively.

 

“Pff, please, Saihara-chan. I have everything I need right here.”

 

Shuichi opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it promptly when he feels Kokichi squeeze his arm.

 

“Okay,” he relents, smiling slightly despite the familiar pang of disappointment blooming in his chest as he finally spots the gate to Hogsmeade and realizes that they have to separate soon.

 

He steals a quick glance at Kokichi and notices that the boy’s eyes are also glued to the gate, face carefully devoid of any emotion.

 

“We’re not gonna take long,” reassures him Shuichi quietly.

 

The Slytherin makes a face but doesn’t comment.

 

Instead, he plants a quick peck on each of their cheeks (he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach Kaito’s) and then rushes back to the castle before any of them has a chance to react, giggling like a madman at the scandalized expressions of a few Slytherin students standing nearby. Shuichi can feel his face burn and from the corner of his eye he can see the pink tint to Kaito’s ears that he’s pretty sure has nothing to do with the icy air.

 

The rest of the way to Hogsmeade is a quiet one, none of them in the mood for conversations. There’s an empty space between them, one that should be occupied by a loudmouth Slytherin and his constant stream of nonsense.

 

They are almost there when Kaito sighs heavily.

 

Shuichi sends him a questioning look.”Is everything alright, Momota-kun?”

 

“Yeah, it’s just… Shit, it’s really unfair, Shuichi. You know how Kokichi is, he would fucking love this place!”

 

He vaguely gestures in the general direction of Hogsmeade, just as they arrive at the edge of the woods and the village appears in their sight.

 

Shuichi nods absentmindedly. He thinks about Kokichi who is always so full of childish amazement whenever he’s introduced to a new aspect of the wizarding world, eyes bright with wonder and a genuine smile breaking through his carefully crafted facade of lies and mischief. Kaito is right, he would love Hogsmeade, he would love everything about it. Shuichi’s not familiar with the details regarding Kokichi’s pre-Hogwarts life but it is pretty obvious that it’s not the kind of life that his Slytherin friend misses. He thinks about how he never gets the permission to visit Hogsmeade, how he stays in the castle every Christmas break and how he’s especially exasperating when they’re on the train back to London at the end of June… he can only assume that Kokichi’s life among Muggles wasn’t a happy one.

 

He realizes that he started to space out and tries to focus on his conversation with Kaito, who is currently in the middle of a rant about how Kokichi would love Zonko’s Joke Shop and how the place feels like it was created specifically with ‘this little shit in mind’.

 

“You know,” Shuichi starts slowly, his gaze lingering on the far away outline of Hogwarts disappearing behind the trees. He sounds apologetic and yet there is also a hopeful tone in his voice.“I don’t really feel like visiting Hogsmeade anymore.”

 

Kaito turns to look at him, various emotions flickering through his eyes, from confusion to surprise until it finally settles on understanding. And then he smiles, that brilliant smile that starts with a gentle tug of the corners of his lips and slowly reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face. Shuichi’s breath hitches.

 

He shyly reaches for Kaito’s hand, warmth spreading on his cheeks when the Gryffindor’s strong warm fingers intertwine with his.

 

Kaito beams at him and with an enthusiastic “let’s go!” he drags Shuichi back to the castle, excitedly chatting about what they should do once they find Kokichi.

 

Shuichi smiles and as he looks over his shoulder to look at Hogsmeade one last time he realizes that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  
  



	14. Cruciatus Curse - Oumota Harry Potter AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Momota-chan!”
> 
> Ouma immediately jumped into action, fingers wrapping around the wand and the words of counter-spell forming on his lips.
> 
> But whoever attacked them was faster.
> 
> “Crucio!”
> 
> Momota could only watch helplessly as the Cruciatus curse hit Ouma right between his ribs.

As soon as they entered the room, wands raised and ready, Momota knew that something was going to go horribly wrong. His worst fears came true almost instantly when an unfamiliar voice called out from the shadows.

 

“Expelliarmus!”

 

Momota let out a surprised yelp as he felt his wand fly out of his hand, the spell disarming him in a matter of seconds. He turned in the direction of the voice, but before he could react or even find out where the spell came from - he was hit by another one. His arms and legs snapped together, his body instantly going rigid and immobile. With a strangled yell dying on his lips he fell to the ground and landed on his side, pain caused by the impact spreading through his body. With panic swelling in his throat, he realized that he must have been hit with the paralyzing spell.

 

“Momota-chan!”

 

Ouma immediately jumped into action, fingers wrapping around the wand and the words of counter-spell forming on his lips.

 

But whoever attacked them was faster.

 

“Crucio!”

 

Momota could only watch helplessly as the Cruciatus curse hit Ouma right between his ribs.

 

The scream that tore itself from Ouma’s throat pierced through the air and Momota could feel his blood run cold at the horrifying sound. He watched in silent horror as the smaller boy collapsed on the floor in a heap of limbs and robes, convulsing and screaming and thrashing about. Momota’s never experienced this cruelest of curses, but he’s heard stories about scorching pain flowing through its victim’s veins, pain so unbearable that death seems merciful in comparison.

 

A person emerged from the shadows, figure hidden behind the layers of robes and face covered by a black hood and mask with snake-like eye slits so Momota couldn’t tell who they were dealing with. All he could do was stare at the mysterious figure, taking in the unmistakable features of a Death Eater. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, almost threatening to burst out of it.

 

He watched at the person approached Ouma, staring at his convulsing body, unmoved by his screams of pain.

 

“Have you had enough?” asked the Death Eater with no trace of sympathy, voice distorted by a spell that made it impossible to recognize who was hidden behind the mask. 

 

The torture lasted for a little longer and after what felt like forever the person finally lifted the spell.

 

Ouma was laying on the ground, panting as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with oxygen. His eyes were glazed over with pain, dark hair plastered to his face. Even then, he lifted his head and send the Death Eater what was supposed to be a cheeky smile. Momota had an unpleasant feeling that the smile was meant more for him than for the Death Eater, as if to reassure Momota that he was going to be alright, always ready to sprout his endless stream of lies, no matter how hopeless the situation.

 

“Never,” he challenged, eyes glimmering. His voice was raspy from screaming, chest still rising and falling erratically. He was trembling, shivers wracking his whole body. Despite the pain, however, he was still trying to do his best and keep the mask of plastered firmly on his face.

 

The Death Eater seemed slightly taken aback by the cocky response.

 

“Well, we can always change that,” came the dangerously sounding threat, Death Eater’s grip on the wand tightening.

 

Ouma chuckled, still sounding breathless.

 

“Sure, sure! Hit me with your best shot,” he paused dramatically, eyes suddenly becoming clearer as he fixed them on the hooded figure, “Maki Roll.”

 

Momota could feel his eyes widen and he was sure that even if the binding spell wasn’t still keeping him in its clutches he would remain frozen in place nonetheless, unable to move due to the feeling of shock spreading through his body at Ouma’s words.

 

For a long moment, the Death Eater was still, frozen in place by either shock or anger, not expecting to be exposed like that.

 

Ouma giggled from his place on the ground, still too weak to lift himself up. He was eyeing her warily, a grimace stretching on his face.“I guessed it, right? It’s you.”

 

Something in the Death Eater’s demeanor changed. In one sweeping motion, the figure pulled the mask off her face, revealing a familiar pair of blood-red eyes and long ponytails tucked under the hood. Then she pointed her wand at her throat and removed the voice-distorting spell.

 

“You just never learn, do you?” she exclaimed angrily, shaking in silent fury.

 

Ouma looked at her, amusement dancing in his eyes, mixing with the last traces of pain still present there. Despite his obvious suffering, he looked extremely pleased.

 

“Puh-lease, you insult my intelligence if you even have to ask, it was so obv—”

 

“Crucio!”

 

The spell hit Ouma again, not letting him finish, and his entire body jerked up as if pulled by invisible strings. He screamed, a shrill blood-curdling sound that would haunt Momota for years to come.  

 

Harukawa turned to Momota who was still paralyzed on the ground and staring at her with wide, full of betrayal eyes. Even in his frozen in place state he looked horrified, his mind a mess of panicked thoughts, desperately trying to convince himself that it wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening!

 

“You weren’t supposed to know,” informed him Harukawa, more upset that the truth was revealed than anything else. She sounded almost apologetic — or at least as apologetic as Harukawa could sound — one of her hands raising to tug at her ponytails nervously. 

 

“It’s between me and him,” she gestured to Ouma, still thrashing about and in agony, lilac eyes screwed shut in pain. “But of course this punk had to go and get you involved.”

 

With an impatient wave of her wand in Ouma’s direction, she lifted the spell once again.

Ouma fell to the ground with an audible thud and immediately curled up, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was at the verge of hyperventilating, unable to catch his breath as the tears of pain spilled over his cheeks freely.

 

Harukawa stood above the smaller boy, a look of utter disgust crossing her face.

 

“This is between him and me,” she explained to Momota. “He wasn’t supposed to bring you into this. You have only him to blame. Once I’m done with him I’ll take you somewhere safe before the Death Eaters storm this place.”

 

She kneeled next to Ouma.

 

“I want to make sure you feel every second of this,“ she snarled, a rare note of cold satisfaction in her voice as if she waited for this moment for a long time.

 

She raised her wand and cast the Cruciatus curse for the third time.

  
  



	15. Morning Kisses - HPA/Modern AU, Saioumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “G’morning.”
> 
> Shuichi yawned, fidgeting slightly to make himself more comfortable.
> 
> “Good morning.”
> 
> “So, what time is it?” asked Kaito, chin pointing at Shuichi’s alarm clock.
> 
> “It’s only eight in the morning, we still have some time.”
> 
> Kaito grinned. “Perfect.”
> 
> Before Shuichi could question what exactly he meant by that, Kaito leaned in over Kokichi’s body and planted a sweet, long kiss on Shuichi’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something sweet for the soul.

The first sensation Shuichi registered when he pulled out of the sweet embrace of sleep was warmth. It surrounded him from all sides and made him feel safe. He pried his eyes open and moved his head to the side, trying to make out the digits of the alarm clock on his bedside table. Once he read the time he fell back on the pillow, the comforting weight of Kokichi’s body draped over his chest and the early time encouraging him to go back to sleep. It was then that he suddenly realized that he’s been watched.

 

He looked to his left and noticed Kaito propped on his elbows, looking at him with warm, trusting eyes, his lips stretched in a lazy smile.

 

“G’morning.”

 

Shuichi yawned, fidgeting slightly to make himself more comfortable.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“So, what time is it?” asked Kaito, chin pointing at Shuichi’s alarm clock.

 

“It’s only eight in the morning, we still have some time.”

 

Kaito grinned. “Perfect.”

 

Before Shuichi could question what exactly he meant by that, Kaito leaned in over Kokichi’s body and planted a sweet, long kiss on Shuichi’s lips. The detective felt his cheeks heating up, the tips of his ears suddenly dusted with a light shade of pink. He could feel Kaito’s lips on his curling into a soft smile at the reaction seconds before he pulled away.

 

Their little display of affection apparently caused Kokichi to wake up because his eyes suddenly snapped open and he let out a long whine, expressing his unhappiness with being forgotten. Kaito laughed openly and pulled his hand out from under the covers to ruffle the plum-colored mop of hair. Shuichi almost burst out laughing at the look of pure betrayal on Kokichis face. However, it didn’t stop the smaller boy from snuggling closer, little fists grasping at the front of Kaito’s shirt. He nuzzled his face into Kaito’s neck, leaving a small trial of lazy open-mouthed kisses on his boyfriend’s skin. He pressed his forehead against the taller boy’s chest, reveling in the warmth of his body and inhaling the familiar smell of the astronaut’s soap. Kaito chuckled quietly and pressed a small affectionate kiss against Kokichi’s bare shoulder where a few sizes too big T-shirt revealed the milky white skin. The smallest boy almost purred in delight, mumbling something incoherently into Kaito’s broad chest.

 

He looked like he was about to go to sleep when he finally became aware of the presence of the third person sharing the bed with him and Kaito when Shuichi pressed his lips on the top of Kokichi’s head, long strands of hair tickling the detective’s nose. He uncurled a little and turned to Shuichi, his eyes still cloudy with sleep and something else, something suspiciously fond.

 

Shuichi’s heart swelled a little, feeling like it could explode with affection any minute now and all that just from looking into his boyfriend’s eyes, surprisingly honest in the streaks of the morning sun. Kokichi’s hand found the front of Shuichi’s shirt and clumsily tried to pull him closer. The detective leaned in obediently, a hint of amusement glimmering in his muddy gold eyes.

 

“Kiss me,” ordered Kokichi, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

 

Shuichi could hear Kaito’s laughing on the other side of the bed, clearly amused by the demanding note in Kokichi’s voice. With a soft smile playing on his lips he closed his eyes and happily obliged.

  
  



	16. Chapter Five Missing Scene - Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma was laying where Momota left him, his dark hair splayed on the cold surface of the press, long sweaty strands plastered to his face. His breathing was getting harsher, chest raising and falling erratically, a wheezing sound accompanying every inhale. His head was tilted in Momota’s direction but his eyes remained unseeing, clouded with pain and unfocused. Ouma’s cheeks were a bit sunken in, the outline of his collarbones sharp against the paper-thin skin. He was trembling, shivers wracking his lithe body. His teeth were chattering and Momota felt cold just from looking at him. However, when he raised his hand to press it against the pale skin of Ouma’s forehead he retreated it almost immediately with a surprised gasp. He was burning up and if Momota looked closely he would notice that lilac eyes were bright with fever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt: "Stop the pain... I'm begging you." + chapter 5

"Stop the pain... I'm begging you."

 

Momota almost jumped at the sound of the voice coming suddenly from behind him.

 

He turned around so fast that for a moment he felt positively dizzy, sudden movement only making his nausea worse. He gulped, swallowing the bile lodged in his throat. He could feel the nervousness settling low in his stomach but took a few steps closer to the source of the voice nonetheless. 

 

Ouma was laying where Momota left him, his dark hair splayed on the cold surface of the press, long sweaty strands plastered to his face. His breathing was getting harsher, chest raising and falling erratically, a wheezing sound accompanying every inhale. His head was tilted in Momota’s direction but his eyes remained unseeing, clouded with pain and unfocused. Ouma’s cheeks were a bit sunken in, the outline of his collarbones sharp against the paper-thin skin. He was trembling, shivers wracking his lithe body. His teeth were chattering and Momota felt cold just from looking at him. However, when he raised his hand to press it against the pale skin of Ouma’s forehead he retreated it almost immediately with a surprised gasp. He was burning up and if Momota looked closely he would notice that lilac eyes were bright with fever.

 

“Ouma?” Momota put his hands on Ouma’s shoulders, eyes searching the other boy’s face. When he remained unresponsive Momota could feel the panic slowly spreading through his chest. He started to shake the smaller boy violently, anxiety seeping into his words. “Ouma? Hey, do you hear me? OUMA!?”

 

After what felt like forever Ouma blinked, a flicker of recognition passing through his features.

 

He turned his face fully in the direction of Momota’s voice and struggled to get his eyes to focus on the Ultimate Astronaut’s face.

 

“Hurts,” he slurred weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

This is at this moment that Momota’s protective instincts finally kicked in. It was almost impressive how he was suddenly blabbering senseless promises and sprouting reassuring lies that for once sounded fake even to his own ears. Meaningless vows of  _ ‘it’s going to be alright’ _ and  _ ‘you just rest, it will be better soon’ _ . However, it didn’t last long as he was quickly interrupted by Ouma’s shaking hand raised in a silencing gesture. It shut him up immediately.  

 

“J-ust hurry up, Momota-chan. I-I don’t have enough time to l-listen to your nonsense.”

 

Momota shook his head, both of his hands wrapping around Ouma’s much smaller one. However, when the Ultimate Supereme Leader hissed at the contact as if it was burning him and Momota immediately let go of him, apologizing profusely.

 

“There must be another way,” he choked out, his voice bordering on pleading. “I’m sure that there’s another antidote that we could use, just let me take the exisal real quickly and—”   

 

Ouma let out a strained sound at that and it took Momota almost half a minute to realize that it was supposed to be laughter. It didn’t last long, however, quickly turning into a coughing fit. He was heaving violently, fruitlessly trying to get the oxygen into his lungs. The whole spectacle was truly pitiful, Momota’s heart clenching painfully at the heartbreaking scene before him. 

 

When the coughs finally stopped Ouma turned his face to Momota, cheeks wet with tears.

 

“Please.”


	17. Comfort - Virtual Reality AU, Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing Kokichi sleep peacefully was a rare treat and one that Kaito cherished with all his heart whenever he had a chance to witness it. 
> 
> It was rare enough that getting actual sleep himself was abandoned in favor of staring at his boyfriend’s calm face, taking in his soft features, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. There was something about Kokichi that made him so endearing to look at, something that Kaito couldn’t name. He would always find something new about Kokichi, something he hasn’t seen before, like how the tips of his eyelashes were tinted with the slightest shade of purple or how during the warmest months a few stray freckles would appear on his nose. He was fascinating in the same way that stars were, mysterious and distant, always out of reach.

Seeing Kokichi sleep peacefully was a rare treat and one that Kaito cherished with all his heart whenever he had a chance to witness it. 

 

It was rare enough that getting actual sleep himself was abandoned in favor of staring at his boyfriend’s calm face, taking in his soft features, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. There was something about Kokichi that made him so endearing to look at, something that Kaito couldn’t name. He would always find something new about Kokichi, something he hasn’t seen before, like how the tips of his eyelashes were tinted with the slightest shade of purple or how during the warmest months a few stray freckles would appear on his nose. He was fascinating in the same way that stars were, mysterious and distant, always out of reach. 

 

Kaito leaned in and pressed a kiss against Kokichi’s forehead. Kokichi’s only response was some incoherent mumbling, his little fist tightening around the material of Kaito’s shirt. He nuzzled into his chest unconsciously, shifting a little bit closer. Kaito chuckled quietly and as let his mouth travel down to press a gentle kiss against Kokichi's eyelids he wished that he could chase his nightmares away.

 

Since they escaped the game Kokichi was tormented with night terrors almost every night. Kaito’s presence usually helped, Kokichi clinging to him in his sleep, seeking warmth and comfort in his vulnerable state, even if he would later deny it ever happened. They never talked about it, just like they barely ever talked about anything game-related, determined to ignore the very reason why they even knew each other. Some nights Kokichi would wake up with a strangled scream on his lips, drenched in cold sweat and shivering like a leaf, eyes wide open and full of terror. 

 

And Kaito was always there, murmuring sweet promises into his hair, squeezing his hand and lulling him back to sleep with his constant warmth and stubborn persistence. But tonight none of that was needed and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief, grateful for the stillness of the night and hoping that soon enough - nights like this one would become a new normal.

 

He curled protectively around Kokichi’s much smaller body, moving the dark strands of hair aside and pressing his lips against his forehead one more time, praying to whatever god is out there for more nights like this one. 

  
  



	18. SAIMOTA WEEK - Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saimota Week Day 2: Kissing

 

“Yo, Shuichi!”

 

Shuichi barely manages to slip into their apartment and throw his keys on the small table next to the door when Kaito’s booming voice comes from the living room.

 

Despite his exhaustion, a small lopsided smile graces Shuichi’s face. He quickly kicks off his shoes, puts a small bag of groceries on the floor and heads in the direction of Kaito’s voice.

 

He’s sitting on their sofa, book in his hands - Shuichi can only guess that it’s something about physics as Kaito is one of the few of them who actually wanted to reconcile their talents from the game - and red-framed glasses perched at the top of his nose.

 

“I’m home,” he says with a small sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as exhaustion slowly sinks in.

 

Kaito puts his book on the nearby table and turns to face Shuichi fully.

 

“How was your meeting?”

 

There’s a small grimace on Kaito’s face when he asks, one that he can’t quite hide and Shuichi can’t blame him. Meetings with Team Danganronpa’s representatives are never a pleasant experience and more often than not Shuichi leaves them with a splitting headache and a new set of reasons to hate himself. They usually do what they can to avoid even mentioning the name of the organization that ruined their lives.

 

Shuichi opens his mouth to answer Kaito’s question and then closes it abruptly. For a moment he looks conflicted, but then he simply shakes his head and sends Kaito a smile that looks almost apologetic.

 

“Ah… I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about it. It was a long day.”

 

Kaito waves his hands dismissively. “Sure thing!”

 

Shuichi smiles at him with gratefully and moves to sit next to Kaito, the sofa dipping slightly under his weight.

 

His whole body is aching, the stress weighing on him. Team Danganronpa was always good at sucking all energy out of him, never failing to make him feel like their little puppet, unable to break out of their control. There were days when he didn’t think he would ever be free, days when his thoughts would lead him into the darkest corners of his mind when all of this looked hopeless and—

 

A gentle touch of Kaito’s hand on his shoulder snaps him out of his spiraling. It’s so sudden that he jumps a little, startled.

 

“Hey, Shuichi? You okay?”

 

Kaito sounds so worried, so genuinely concerned about him. The magenta eyes are filled with worry and Shuichi can feel a vibrant blush of embarrassment that starts to spread across his cheeks.

 

“S-sorry!” he manages to squeak out.

 

Kaito laughs, visibly relieved that everything seems to be alright.

 

“No need to apologize, man! Just making sure you’re okay.”

 

Shuichi swallows thickly, looking at his friend.

 

Kaito’s smile is warm. Actually, now that Shuichi thinks about it, everything about Kaito is warm. He radiates warmth and comfort and positivity and it’s more than Shuichi could ever dream of, much more than he deserves. Kaito’s been there for him this whole time, his presence constant and comforting and sometimes it’s almost overwhelming. Shuichi owes him so much.

 

Would he even be where he is right now if it wasn’t for Kaito?

 

There’s a flicker of warmth and affection that suddenly spreads through his chest and suddenly he feels like he must do something, like he must express it somehow or he’ll explode.

 

Before he can even question what he’s doing, his eyes already flutter shut and he’s leaning in, pressing his mouth against Kaito’s in a chaste kiss.

 

The touch is soft and feather-like, barely even there and it tastes so sweet despite being so wrong.

 

It takes Shuichi only a moment to realize his mistake and it’s enough to send a spark of panic surging through his veins. He instantly breaks the kiss, apology already forming on his lips. However, before he even has a chance to catch his breath and explain himself - a hand, strong and warm, cups his face and Kaito’s lips are on his again.

 

Shuichi lets out a surprised gasp into the kiss, his eyes widening with shock as Kaito’s only reaction is to pull him closer, close enough that their chests are almost pressed together now. The feeling of his lips moving against his makes Shuichi's heart flutter, warmth spreading through his chest and his head spinning. He can feel Kaito press harder against his mouth and Shuichi relents and opens his mouth to let him in.

 

It’s soft and slow and sweet and Shuichi feels like he’s melting into the touch, into the comfort and warmth provided by Kaito’s broad shoulders and the steady grip of his arms when they pull him closer and wrap around his waist. He lifts hands and hesitantly rests them on Kaito’s shoulders.  

 

There’ll be time to talk. There’ll be time to explain. There’ll be time to understand what happened and why. But for once in his life, Shuichi chooses to toss his doubts and insecurities aside and let future Shuichi deal with the consequences.

 

For now he simply closes his eyes and lets himself drown in the sensation.

  
  



	19. News - New Killing Game AU, Saioumota

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got asked on my Tumblr (@golden-redhead) to write a scene from my existing fic as told through the eyes of a different character. This is from my fic 'Again' in which Kokichi gets a letter from Team Danganronpa informing him that he's supposed to participate in a new Fan Favorites killing game. Since it was originally written in Kokichi's perspective - he's the same scene but retold from first Kaito's and then Shuichi's perspective.

Kaito reached out his hand and snatched the letter that fell on Kokichi’s lap when it slipped out of his hand, curiosity taking the best of him and unable to handle the silence any longer. As soon as Kokichi’s face went blank he knew that it couldn’t be anything good, all of his instincts screaming at him to find out what’s wrong and make things better. His grip on the letter was so strong that he could rip it in half, eyes skimming over the text quickly, black words on white paper. He barely registered the strangled sound that escaped his lips, something between a sob and a growl. His mouth was moving but no sound came out, no screaming, no crying, no cursing, just silence as he was trying to remember how to form words. There was a sense of anger somewhere deep down but he couldn’t quite reach it, not yet, in his numb with shock state.

_Kichi is going back._

He is going back and they can’t do anything about it. _  
_

They just got out and, they just started to make progress, months of therapy and forcing the pills down Kokichi’s throat finally working, finally making progress, however small… And all of this only to send him back.

 

***

 

Shuichi watched with muted horror as Kaito let out a choked up sound, magenta eyes going impossibly wide as they skimmed over Kokichi’s letter. The usually optimistic astronaut suddenly looked like he was about to be sick, face turning ashen within seconds and disbelief painted all over his face, making the contrast all the more jarring.

When it became clear that Kaito wasn’t about to tell him what happened, Shuichi turned his attention back to Kokichi, reaching out for the smaller man’s wrist to hold it in a comforting gesture. The effect was ruined, however, with how much his fingers were trembling, anxiety rooted deep in his stomach as he tried to force himself to calm down. Whatever it was that made Kokichi and Kaito that way - it must have been bad.

“Kokichi?” He asked hesitantly, trying to look him in the eyes, pleading him to tell him what’s going on because his heart couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t deal with the not knowing.

It quickly turned out that he’s not as ready for the truth as he would like to believe he is, because when Kokichi took a shuddering breath and finally told him all Shuichi could feel was his heart breaking.


	20. Friends to Lovers - Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momota hold his breath and watched as a a rare spark of disappointment flickered through Ouma’s eyes before it disappeared and quickly got replaced with a mask of confidence. Ouma pulled away and took a step back, a wide smile forming on his lips as he folded his hands at the back of his neck.
> 
> “Whatever!” He exclaimed, a little too cheerful for Momota’s taste. There was certain tension around the liar’s eyes, his smile slightly strained around the edges. “I didn’t want Momota-chan to kiss me anyway!”

If you asked him later how it happened - Momota wouldn’t know what to tell you.  _ It just did, _ he would say, one of his hands scratching at the of skin on the back of his neck, confusion written all over his face. But the moment it happened he knew that somehow it was inevitable even if he didn’t realize it sooner. 

 

One second he and Ouma were bickering about something silly, something unimportant - just like they always did - and then the next moment Ouma was pulling him down by the collar of his shirt, lilac eyes bright with challenge. 

 

Momota froze, the air around them suddenly heavy with tension. He couldn’t tell what was different but it was like something changed between them. He could feel Ouma’s hot breath ghosting over his lips for a second too long. He could feel his own heart suddenly start to race. They stared into each other’s eyes with surprising intensity, none of them willing to relent and move or even just look away. It felt like the whole world froze, even if just for a second.  

 

Momota hold his breath and watched as a a rare spark of disappointment flickered through Ouma’s eyes before it disappeared and quickly got replaced with a mask of confidence. Ouma pulled away and took a step back, a wide smile forming on his lips as he folded his hands at the back of his neck.

 

“Whatever!” He exclaimed, a little too cheerful for Momota’s taste. There was certain tension around the liar’s eyes, his smile slightly strained around the edges. “I didn’t want Momota-chan to kiss me anyway!”

 

Momota spluttered, his eyes going wide.

 

“As if anyone would want to kiss you, you little shit!” He protested.

 

Ouma’s smirk turned sharp. 

 

“Oh, my poor naive Momota-chan. I’ll have you know that there’s plenty of people who would  _ kill  _ just to have a chance to kiss me. I’m a real catch!”

 

Momota made a face, not believing him even for a second. But somehow the idea of some unnamed stranger kissing Ouma felt…  _ wrong _ . Actually, the idea of  _ anyone _ kissing Ouma felt wrong. And he looked so proud of this little lie, too. All Momota knew in that moment was that he wanted to wipe this infuriating smirk away from Ouma’s face. By any means necessary. 

 

With a growl Momota closed the distance between their lips, pulling Ouma into a kiss before he could hesitate, before he could actually _ think  _ about what he was doing and stop. He swallowed the gasp that escaped Ouma’s lips at the contact and one of his hands found the collar of Ouma’s shirt and pulled him closer, bending more to get an easier access to his mouth. For a long moment Ouma remained still but then his eyes fluttered shut and he finally returned the kiss. A sense of satisfaction surged through the astronaut’s veins, igniting something in his chest, something primal and needy. He pressed closer, coaxing Ouma’s lips to move, determined to get a reaction out of him now that Ouma’s own provocations proved to be successful. 

 

One of Momota’s hands hesitated for a split second before it finally settled on Ouma’s hip, warm and steady. His other hand brushed against Ouma’s jaw until he decided to rest it behind his neck, fingers curling around the loose strands of hair, pulling at them in a way that made Ouma moan and shudder. Momota pulled the other boy closer, unable to break the kiss now that he knew the taste of Ouma’s lips, now that he knew how it felt to have his lithe body pressed against his chest. Somewhere at the back of his mind he knew that he crossed a certain line that he never thought would be crossed but for now it didn’t matter.

 

When they finally separated Ouma was nearly panting, swollen lips parted slightly, eyes half-lidded and dazed. Momota could spot a flicker of surprise in the Supreme Leader’s eyes, staring at him with something akin to shock as if he couldn’t believe that it actually just happened. Momota would have felt embarrassed but all he could truly focus on was the heat coiling down in his stomach, his hand still curved below Ouma’s waist, keeping him close, keeping him in place in case he decided to spring to his feet and bolt out of the room. 

 

He looked at Ouma but he was avoiding his eyes and with a quiet amusement Momota thought that he wasn’t nearly as confident as normally, not once he lost the upper hand. A small blush was dusting Ouma’s cheeks and Momota’s own face felt much warmer than normally. Some part buried deep inside of him wanted more. 

 

“So,” started Ouma sounding a little breathless, “maybe I lied. Maybe I wanted Momota-chan to kiss me!”

 

Momota chuckled. Ouma pouted. 

 

“Ooor maybe I’m lying again and Momota-chan took advantage of me and my poor virgin lips!” He lamented childishly trying to push Momota away. 

 

This time it was Momota’s turn to smirk. 

 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he commented and then pulled Ouma closer observing as the blush on his face spread, reaching to the tips of his ears. He could tell that Ouma was enjoying their typical banter, lilac eyes finally meeting the pair of magenta ones. 

 

Ouma giggled. “Aww, Momota-chan knows me so well.”

 

He let Momota pull him closer and this time they moved at the same time, breath getting knocked out of both of them with the force that they collided with. 

 

Momota could feel Ouma smile against his lips.  

  
  



	21. “Not that I’m complaining, but are you always this warm?” - Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Kichi? Not that I’m complaining, but are you always this warm?”
> 
> Kokichi froze.
> 
> Slowly as to not make his headache worse with a sudden movement, he tilted his head and flashed Kaito a wide grin.
> 
> “Aww, is Momota-chan trying to tell me that I’m hot?”
> 
> He instantly regretted opening his mouth, cursing himself internally when all that came out was a painful rasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt

Kokichi made the mistake of leaning against Kaito.

 

They were sitting on their small couch, Kokichi nestled comfortably in Kaito’s lap, his head resting against the crook of the astronaut’s shoulder. Kaito’s hand threading through his hair felt familiar and comforting, slowly lulling him to sleep. He was observing colorful cartoon characters as they danced across the screen of their TV through half-lidded eyes, struggling to keep them open. His head throbbed, pain pulsating steadily in his temples and his chest felt heavier and heavier with every breath he took. 

 

Kaito shifted in place, trying to find a more comfortable position when his fingers brushed against Kokichi’s cheek. His eyes went wide, the sudden warmth slowly registering as something unusual and worrying.  

 

He sent Kokichi a questioning look.

 

“Hey, Kichi? Not that I’m complaining, but are you always this warm?”

 

Kokichi froze.

 

Slowly as to not make his headache worse with a sudden move he tilted his head and flashed Kaito a wide grin.

 

“Aww, is Momota-chan trying to tell me that I’m hot?” 

 

He instantly regretted opening his mouth, cursing himself internally when all that came out was a painful rasp. His throat was burning, the persistent scratchy feeling at the back of his throat making it difficult to swallow. 

 

Kaito clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. 

 

Deflecting. Now he was sure that something was wrong. 

 

With a deep sigh he stood up, almost sending Kokichi to the ground. He caught him before he could fall, smiling faintly at the squeak of surprise that escaped Kokichi’s lips. 

 

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said, pressing his mouth against his boyfriend’s forehead, feeling the heat spreading beneath his lips. “We’re gonna go see the doctor first thing in the morning.”

 

Ignoring Kokichi’s weak protests and whining (“Momota-chan is the one who should go to the doctor! It’s a conspiracy, you just want to have an excuse to prove how manly you are!”) Kaito managed to get him into bed and force a syrup down his throat. Kokichi made a face at the taste but otherwise kept quiet when a wet cloth got placed on his forehead and Kaito’s fingers started to play with his hair again. 

 

He fell asleep to the sound of Kaito’s gentle humming. 

  
  
  



	22. Control - post-game Virtual Reality AU Saiouma

The last thing Shuichi expected when leaving the killing game was that his supposed freedom wouldn’t feel like freedom at all.

 

Ever since he woke up and pried the helmet that transferred his consciousness to the virtual world from his head, Team Danganronpa controlled his every step, dictated his every move. They had control over everything, from something as small and simple as the brand of his toothpaste that he was supposed to use to dictating his entire schedule, barely leaving him any time to use the bathroom or drink something between all the therapy sessions, interviews, photo shoots, fan meetings, discussions regarding his career as the star of Danganronpa and multiple other duties that his contract demanded from him.

 

It was almost four weeks after the game ended and he was forced from one hell to another, that he found himself standing before the door that looked deceptively similar to the one leading to his own room. The door nameplate read Ouma Kokichi and something in Shuichi’s chest tightened unpleasantly whenever his thoughts drifted to the other participant of the fifty-third killing game. Confusion, shame, guilt, anger, all of those feelings were twisting in his gut at the memory of the fifth trial and turning into a painful knot that he didn’t even know how to start to untangle.

 

Not for the first time, his fingers brushed against the doorknob only for him to withdraw his hand, let out a shaky exhale and hurry to his own room, the word ‘coward’ echoing in his head.


	23. How Dare You - Canon Divergence AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Momota-chan!”
> 
> Ouma’s head peeked out from behind the door leading to the bathroom in the exisal hangar.
> 
> His eyes quickly found Momota’s slumped against the bathroom wall form, head resting against his shoulder. Ouma’s lips twitched in a childish pout. When he spoke again there was a chastising note in his words.
> 
> “It’s not time to play dead yet, Momota-chan, you hafta cruuuush me first,” he whined, stepping closer.
> 
> Momota didn’t react. He didn’t even twitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: major character death

“Hey, Momota-chan!” 

 

Ouma’s head peeked out from behind the door leading to the bathroom in the exisal hangar. 

 

His eyes quickly found Momota’s slumped against the bathroom wall form, head resting against his shoulder. Ouma’s lips twitched in a childish pout. When he spoke again there was a chastising note in his words. 

 

“It’s not time to play dead yet, Momota-chan, you hafta cruuuush me first,” he whined, stepping closer. 

 

Momota didn’t react. He didn’t even twitch. 

 

Ouma put the tray with a single slice of stale bread and two small apples (also known as Momota’s dinner) on the floor and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to ignore the feeling of numb dread spreading through his body. 

 

“Momota-chan, how dare you ignore the Supreme Leader when he’s talking to you.”

 

He kicked one of Momota’s legs lightly. “I’ll have you know that people lost their fingers for less than that. I bet you’re really attached to your fingers, Momota-chan. Nishishi~!”

 

Ouma let out his signature laugh and crouched down next to the other boy. 

 

He reached out his arm, ignoring the slight tremble of his fingers, to pat Momota’s hair gently. It almost felt nice. At least as long as you ignored the stickiness from the hair gel that's been there for at least three days now, leaving the dark strands of hair tangled into a thick and disgusting mass.

 

He slowly turned Momota’s head to face him - his hands now shaking uncontrollably - and stared into his eyes. 

 

“You are the worst, Momota-chan,” he laughed openly, the sound wet and positively unhinged. “The absolute worst!”

 

Momota didn’t offer him any response, his unseeing eyes staring through Ouma and a trail of strikingly pink blood trickling down his chin.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your daily dose of Oumota pain, you're very welcome :3  
> As always, you can find me on my Tumblr (@golden-redhead) where I sometimes take requests!


	24. Astro Cake - post-game Virtual Reality AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Ouma and Momota share a quiet moment over the Astro Cake)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: implied self-harm
> 
> It's a little something that I wanted to dedicate to @aroseandapen. Happy Birthday!

 

It takes Momota almost half an hour to find Ouma after one of the nurses approaches him anxiously, pushing a small filled with snow-white pills box into his hands and sheepishly asking him to give it to Ouma because he not-so-accidentally forgot to take it again. Momota feels sorry for her (or as sorry as he can feel for someone who put him and his friends through hell for the entertainment of the entire world), he knows from experience that Ouma is a handful on his best days. He agrees with a sharp nod of his head, not waiting for her to thank him. He doesn’t have much patience left for the staff of the hospital and he can’t exactly blame Ouma for making their lives as miserable as possible with his ridiculous pranks and teasing, not when Momota himself is tempted to do the same thing.

 

He finally finds him in the kitchen, leaning over some kind of cake and humming tunelessly to himself. Momota’s chest tightens uncomfortably when his eyes slide over the bandages wrapped around the thin wrists and peeking out from where Ouma’s sleeve ends.

 

“There you are!”

 

Momota approaches him slowly, eyeing the cake that Ouma’s eating and quickly realizing that it looks suspiciously familiar.

 

“Is that a… Astro Cake?”

 

He doesn’t hide his surprise when he reaches for the nearby chair and brings it closer to the table, sitting on the other side of the table across from Ouma.

 

“Yup~!” says Ouma around a mouthful of cake. His eyes flicker to Momota for a total of one second and then turns back to the cake as he stabs another big piece with his fork and stuffs it into his already full mouth.

 

“Where have you got it?” asks Momota, genuinely curious.

 

“I was trying to sell the goats but the prosecuting attorney didn't have any change so he gave me this rigged cake as a guarantee,” responds Ouma nonchalantly, swinging his legs under the table.

 

Momota stares.

 

He’s about to open his mouth to make a comment about how he’s making even less sense than usual but thinks better of it and shakes his head instead, letting out a small chuckle.

 

“Oh, really?” Momota’s voice conveys just how much he doubts the truth of his words.

 

Ouma lets out an overdramatic gasp that resounds in the empty room. His doll-like eyes fill with faux tears, lower lip trembling and with quiet amusement Momota realizes that there’s a sense of familiarity that comes with watching Ouma’s usual theatrics. It’s strangely grounding in this old but new world that feels so foreign.

 

‘Does Momota-chan think that I’m a liar?” Ouma accuses him.

 

It’s hard to take him seriously with cake frosting smeared on his chin.

 

“Nah. Why would I?” teases Momota with a faint shadow of a smile playing on his lips. Those are rare these days.

 

Ouma giggles and shoves more cake into his mouth, moaning loudly with a pretend satisfaction.

 

Momota’s lips twitch in amusement and he reaches out to take the fork laying nearby. He scoops as much cake as he can, pointedly ignoring Ouma’s pout, the smaller boy clearly unhappy with having to share his treat. He swallows it all in one go, the disgustingly sweet taste that spills over his taste buds almost overwhelming.

 

“You forgot to take your medicine,” says Momota, taking the box full of pills out of his pocket and putting it on the table. He nudges it in Ouma’s direction. “Again.”

 

“Oops. My bad!”

 

Momota grunts in quiet acknowledgment. Unsurprisingly, Ouma doesn’t sound apologetic at all.

 

They continue to eat in silence. Or, to be more precise, Ouma is the one eating. Momota simply observes him quietly, wondering how long it’s gonna take until he gets a stomachache.

 

Suddenly Ouma looks up at him, his face weirdly devoid of emotion.

 

“I lied,” he announces, lilac eyes looking straight into the mauve ones. “Some crazy fangirl sneaked the cake into the hospital for Saihara-chan but he didn’t want it, so I took it upon myself to not let it go to waste!”

 

Ah. That explains it.

 

Saihara avoided any contact with fans as if they were a plague. Poor guy.

 

Momota hums quietly. He stands up, stretching slightly. “Hey, you wanna play some chess?”

 

Ouma perks up and hops off the chair, his cake completely forgotten.

 

“Only if Momota-chan promises that it won’t be boring!”

 

Momota chuckles.

 

“Promise.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever want to you can scream with me about Oumota on my blog http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/  
> And as always - kudos & comments are the best motivation to write more and I would love to know what you guys thought c:


	25. Intimate Moments - Everyone Lives, Nobody Dies AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momota tugs at the lower part of Ouma’s shirt and pulls it up slightly, exposing a patch of milky pale skin. His hand sneaks under the material, brushing against the skin, feeling as Ouma tenses beneath his fingers only to relax moments later. Ouma squirms in his embrace, his lips tugged down in a slight pout, not used to being the one being teased, not used to this kind of attention.

He slowly lays Ouma on their shared bed, dark strands of hair spilling over the pillow and framing his childlike face like a halo. Momota watches as a rosy blush spreads over Ouma’s cheeks in reaction to this unexpected gentleness and can feel the satisfaction blooming in his chest along with something new, something primal and needy and impossible to ignore. He tugs at the lower part of Ouma’s shirt and pulls it up slightly, exposing a patch of milky pale skin. His hand sneaks under the material, brushing against the skin, feeling as Ouma tenses beneath his fingers only to relax moments later. Ouma squirms in his embrace, his lips tugged down in a slight pout, not used to being the one being teased, not used to this kind of attention. 

 

Momota chuckles and lets his hand explore, smiling knowingly when Ouma releases a quiet breathy laugh when Momota’s fingers graze against his side. 

 

He leans in and plants a chaste kiss on Ouma’s forehead, the hand currently not trapped under the smaller boy’s shirt rising to brush aside a few stray strands from his face. He observes as surprise flashes through Ouma’s eyes and then bleeds into confusion, doe-like eyes staring at him with a hint of suspicions, as if he can’t quite believe that this is happening, that this is real. There’s years of fears reflected in these eyes, doubt rooted deep inside, something that for Ouma is a clear proof that he can’t be loved. 

 

Suddenly, Momota feels all the more obliged to prove him wrong. He pulls Ouma closer so that they’re only breaths apart, 

 

“You,” a brush of lips against Ouma’s earlobe, “little,” a gentle tug at the strand of hair twirled around his finger, “shit.” 

 

His lips travel lower, hot breath ghosting above the pale skin until they brush against Ouma’s cheek and then slowly, impossibly slowly, move to press against the corner of his mouth. 

 

He swallows the soft mewl threatening to escape Ouma’s lips and pulls him closer, urging him to wrap his arms around his shoulders, slender wrists crossed and resting against his nape. He cups his face with one hand, mauve eyes searching for the lilac ones when he leans in even closer, their noses almost pressed together when he deepens the kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote it in December while having a fever. It wasn't really a part of any other project (even though it kind of looks like it could be) so I'm just posting it as a separate ficlet.


	26. Empty - post-game VR AU Oumota

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: empty

Momota was walking down the familiar hospital corridors feeling lighter than ever. He was slowly going insane from being trapped in this place, Team Danganronpa refusing to let the participants of the fifty-third season leave until they all finished their physical and mental therapy and were deemed ready to be discharged by the staff. Every day in this place felt like reliving everything that happened over and over again, never really letting the wounds to heal. He was desperate to leave this place, leave and never look back.

 

Momota was… optimistic. Or as optimistic as the guy who went through a killing game could be. 

 

He was going to spend the next few months in the small flat that his grandparents left him. He managed to convince Ouma to live with him, at least for now. He knew that the little shit had nowhere to go thanks to some nurse’s slip up and in Momota’s opinion no one deserved to live alone, not even someone like Ouma. He felt weirdly responsible for the guy, the image of his pale burning with fever face mere moments before the descent of the hydraulic press making a frequent appearance in his nightmares.  

 

Momota turned right and let out a quiet sigh when Ouma’s room finally came into sight. He hurried in this direction, painfully aware of how little time they had. He knocked on the door and waited. 

 

No response.

 

“Ouma, we have to go,” he said, loud enough to be heard through the thin door.

 

Still silence.

 

Momota groaned internally, running a hand through the long strands of hair framing his face. He really needed to cut it. And get his hands on some hair gel. It doesn’t matter what Ouma thinks, his spiked up hair looked cool. What did Ouma even know, his hair always looked like a mess, sticking in every direction and slightly curled at the ends from being constantly played with. 

 

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re ready or not. You don’t even have that much to pack and we really have to go now,” Momota reached out and put his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. “Amami and Akamatsu will get us to the city on their way to visit Akamatsu’s parents, but they want to leave in the next ten minutes and-”

 

The door opened and Momota stepped in, the words dying on his lips. He could feel his throat constricting at the sight before him. 

 

The room was empty, Ouma and his things nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing now you can support me on Ko-fi!   
> https://ko-fi.com/L4L4IOSY
> 
> If you buy me a ko-fi I can consider writing a short DR V3 ficlet (up to 500 words) for you as a way to thank you for your generosity and help c: You can send me a small prompt, a sentence starter, character/ship, trope, etc. Just remember that because of the short form I won’t be able to write anything you want and that it probably won’t be longer than one simple scene or one paragraph, so it can’t be too complicated.
> 
> I hope you liked this ficlet & have a nice day!


	27. All Nighter - College AU Oumota

Ouma is used to waking up in the middle of the night. 

 

Nightmares often chased him into the realm of sleep, even if most of the time he refuses to acknowledge their presence and merely drifts back to sleep, lulled by the gentle snoring and steady heartbeat beneath his fingers as he snuggles closer to his boyfriend’s chest.

 

So this is exactly what he’s planning to do this time, except there is no said boyfriend in the bed next to him. 

 

When in his half-asleep mind he reaches out to seek the familiar warmth of the body resting next to him, his fingers find nothing but thin air and once he forces his eyes open it becomes painfully obvious that he’s the only occupant of the room. He lets out an irritated grumble, slowly untangling his limbs from a mass of sheets and blankets and begrudgingly hops off the bed, squinting in the near-complete darkness. 

 

The faint light coming from the gap between the door and the floor leads him to the living room where he finds his missing boyfriend. Momota half-sits, half-lays on the couch, his long limbs splayed along the length of it. The red-framed glasses that he uses for reading rest on his nose, slightly crooked and threatening to slip down. Momota’s quiet snores and the barely audible hum of their fridge that comes from the kitchen are the only sounds disrupting the quiet of the night. There's a notebook in his lap and papers scattered all over the couch and the floor and Ouma clicks his tongue in annoyance realizing that Momota was trying to pull off another all nighter to catch up with his studies. 

 

And so Ouma does what any sensible person would do. 

 

Which here means that he goes to the bathroom, finds a big plastic bowl, fills it with freezing cold water and promptly hurries back to the living room only to unceremoniously pour it all right on his precious boyfriend’s head with a loud and satisfying splash. 

 

The reaction is immediate.

 

Momota wakes up with a screech that is sure to wake up the neighbours next door. He jumps in place, his eyes wide open and frantic as he curses and coughs and splutters in disoriented panic. 

 

His head turns to Ouma, long strands of hair plastered to his face as mauve eyes meet the lilac ones. His chest heaves as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

 

“Ouma!” he exclaims loudly, still too disoriented to get properly angry. “What the fuck?!”

 

“Momota-chan,” tuts Ouma disapprovingly, visibly unbothered by Momota’s quite reasonable confusion. He ignores Momota’s question completely and responds with an accusation of his own instead. “Is that how you treat your supreme leader?”

 

Momota blinks once, then twice, jaw hanging low. 

 

“What?” He blurts out. “The hell are you talking about?”

 

“I demand that Momota-chan stays at my side at all times during the nights!” Says Ouma decidedly, arms crossed over his chest and head held high. “You never know when someone will plan to assassinate me. I need Momota-chan to be my human shield in case something like that happens!”

 

Momota runs his fingers through his hair, cringing at the feeling of water still dripping on his face and down the column of his neck until the thin trail disappears under the hem of his shirt. .

 

“You are impossible,” he groans and forces his legs to stand up, reaching out to use the nearest table for balance. He can feel his muscles screaming in protest at the sudden movement and the undeniable exhaustion that spreads through his body. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s got a full night’s sleep.

 

Shit. He’s can’t keep going like this. 

 

He should have known that this studying at night thing wouldn’t work out. Balancing his work, college and trying to squeeze in some time with his friends in between all that was harder than he expected and the strain was getting more noticeable with every passing day.

 

His eyes flicker to his physics notes spread all over the floor, some of them soggy and tainted with spilled ink. He can’t help a quiet sigh as he thinks about the upcoming exam with resignation slowly weighing on his shoulders. 

 

He doesn’t even notice that Ouma left the room until a towel - one of the nice, soft and fluffy ones that Ouma insisted on buying - smacks him on the forehead and then falls haphazardly at his feet. 

 

“Momota-chan better come to fulfill his human shield duties as soon as he’s no longer wet and gross! Nishishi.”

 

And with that he’s out of the room, sliding back into the darkness of their shared bedroom. 

 

Momota stares after him for a solid minute before he bends to lift the towel and buries his face in it, letting out a quiet sigh into the warm material. 

 

Maybe getting some sleep is not such a bad idea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing now you can support me on Ko-fi!  
> https://ko-fi.com/L4L4IOSY
> 
> If you buy me a ko-fi I can consider writing a short DR V3 ficlet (up to 500 words) for you as a way to thank you for your generosity and help c: You can send me a small prompt, a sentence starter, character/ship, trope, etc. Just remember that because of the short form I won’t be able to write anything you want and that it probably won’t be longer than one simple scene or one paragraph, so it can’t be too complicated.
> 
> I hope you liked this ficlet & have a nice day!


	28. Treat - HPA Post-Graduation AU Oumota

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: suggestive / NSFW-ish. Nothing explicit, but just so you know. 
> 
> I wanted to dedicate it to @tokilos and @asteroidtaker (you can find them on Tumblr, they are both amazing Oumota artists!) who are always there for me when I need someone to talk about V3 <3 Love you guys!

Kaito stared.

 

He could tell that Kokichi was aware of the fact that the astronaut’s eyes haven’t left his face ever since their treats have been served shortly after they entered the small cafe with a bunch of their former classmates. He was chatting happily with Rantaro, excitedly telling him one crazy story or another, the Ultimate Adventurer clearly humoring him, nodding along, asking questions and even gasping in shock whenever Kokichi’s stories took an unexpected twist.

 

The whole time, Kokichi was gesticulating wildly, flailing his ice cream around without the care in the world, his lilac eyes bright and earnest.

 

Shortly after the group came into the cafe and everyone was considering where to sit and discussing the best deserts the cafe had to offer, Kokichi sneaked in to stand behind him, his hand resting at the back of Kaito’s hip and crawling lower, making his breath hitch in surprise and his cheeks heat up at the familiar touch. He remembers Kokichi’s cocky smile, visibly pleased with the effect he had on him, right before he stood up on his tiptoes to whisper into Kaito’s ear that he’ll have a treat for him later, his voice low and positively sinful. And then the warmth of his hand was gone, leaving Kaito frozen in place as he skipped to the counter to order copious amounts of ice cream in almost every flavor the place had to offer.

 

Kaito couldn’t tear his eyes away from him ever since, cheeks flushed and pulse thrumming throughout his entire body, Kokichi’s words — Kokichi’s  _ promise —  _ echoing in his head.

 

Kaito gritted his teeth, his own shortcake forgotten on the table. He knew that the others were trying to include him in their conversation, he could sense Shuichi sending occasional curious glances his way, probably thinking how unusual it was for the astronaut to be so quiet, especially on such an occasion. There was a pang of guilt pooling in his stomach, he hasn’t seen any of them in so long and Kokichi just had to be so infuriatingly  _ distracting _ . Maki’s piercing red eyes were boring into the skin of his neck angrily, her lips pressed into a thin line, visibly bothered by his odd behavior and absent mindedness.

 

Ever since he started dating Kokichi he hasn’t had that much time for his sidekicks. It wasn’t unusual for Ultimates to have a busy life after graduation and between his preparations for his first expedition to space and trying to figure out how Kokichi fit in his life it was difficult to find time for anything else, especially with Shuichi and Maki’s equally busy schedules.

 

He tried to focus more on their conversation, enthusiastically congratulating Shuichi on another successfully solved murder case that he’s been struggling with for months and beaming with pride when Maki mentioned that she’s been doing fine at her new job, taking care of children with serious disabilities and trying to distance herself from her past.

 

He was doing his best to redirect his attention away from Kokichi, slowly relaxing and letting his thoughts drift away from the memory of the warm hand pressed just above the edge of his jeans, when — as it always happens when Kokichi is involved — something  _ had _ to go wrong.

 

“Ouma-kun,” came Rantaro’s amused voice from across the room, making Kaito’s head snap in that direction. “Your ice cream is dripping.”

 

“Ehh?” Kokichi looked down at his ice cream as if only now realizing that it started to melt. But Kaito couldn’t be fooled, not when Kokichi’s gaze flickered to the corner in which he was sitting with Shuichi and Maki, not when he could tell that he was  _ making sure _ that Kaito’s eyes are on him.

 

“Oops~! Silly me!” Kokichi giggled mischievously, raising his hand to his lips. He stuck his tongue out unashamedly, eagerly licking at the melted ice cream.

 

Kaito watched Kokichi drag his tongue down the length of the ice cream cone and back up, eyes half-lidded and the expression on his face blissful. He could feel the rush of blood as the blush spilled over his cheeks, his hand clenching around the armrest of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Maki was saying something next to him, but he tuned her out, his attention focused solely on Kokichi. He couldn’t pry his eyes away when Kokichi didn’t bother to reach for a napkin — even though there was a bunch of them on the table — and instead moved to lick the fruity flavor dripping down the back of his hand and slowly reaching his bony wrist. He let a few quiet moans, relishing the sweet taste and taking his time, not letting a single drop go to waste.

 

Once his hand was clean his eyes fluttered open and he smacked his lips, loudly, the sound of it carrying above the chatter of their friends and other customers. And then he lifted his head, the corners of his lips tugged upwards in a smile that looked almost predatory and Kaito could feel the sharp gaze of lilac eyes staring right into his own and sending a spark of interest into his groin.

 

Oh, he was so screwed.

  
  


-

  
  


The door to their little apartment slammed shut after them with a loud bang, Kaito’s lips finding Kokichi’s blindly as soon as they got inside, warm fingers sneaking under the hem of the thin shirt he was wearing and gripping the smaller man’s hip, his whole body curving into his boyfriend. The astronaut could feel Kokichi’s breathy laugh and his ice-cream-tasting lips stretching in a frustratingly familiar cocky smile against his. He kicked the shoes off his feet and pushed Kokichi deeper into the apartment, leading him backward in the direction of the bedroom, not letting him out even for a second. Kissing him, touching him, pushing him against the wall as his lips and hands wandered over his body, brushing against every curve, dip and mark… it was all he could think of ever since Kokichi’s little stunt back in the cafe. And it was  _ hours  _ ago. It was bad enough that he had to sit there with an awkward boner, his smiles getting progressively more strained as he was trying to assure Shuichi and Kaede that  _ yes, of course, he was fine, why wouldn’t he be. _

 

Ironically enough, ultimately it was Kokichi who came to his rescue, sprouting some nonsense about Kaito still recovering after a cold and not feeling well. He all but dragged him out of the cafe, followed by a choir of well-intentioned wishes that he’ll feel better soon.  

 

He felt bad that he had to lie to his friends but he would worry about this later, once the hazy desire pooling low in his stomach was taken care of.

 

“My, my, whatever got you so worked up, Mister Luminary of the Stars?” teased Kokichi. He leaned back to look up at his partner, his fingers curling around the tie wrapped loosely around Kaito’s neck, yanking it down to pull him closer.

 

Kaito let out a low growl against the shell of his ear, hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin of his neck as he was pressing open-mouthed kisses against it.

 

“You know what you did,” glared Kaito, but the words didn’t come out nearly as accusatory as he hoped that they would. He reached for the buttons of Kokichi’s shirt, undoing them with heated urgency. “I’m still angry at you.”

 

Kokichi giggled, smiling lazily as he let Kaito guide him into the darkness of their bedroom and then lower him on their bed, dark hair spilling all over the milky white sheets like a halo. Kaito climbed on the bed after him, straddling Kokichi’s narrow hips and careful not to crush him under his weight. He hovered above him, his hands resting on either side of his boyfriend's head and normally spiked hair falling to frame his face. Kokichi raised his arms, long fingers lacing together and resting against the nape of Kaito’s neck only to pull him into a slow intimate kiss, his whole body curving into it as he arched his back.

 

The kiss was long and heated, all bared skin and gentle touches all over, tongues pushing against each other. When they finally separated there was a string of saliva connecting their lips. They were both panting slightly, chests heaving with desire.

 

Kokichi looked at him, head cocked to the side and challenge bright and clear in his eyes. He licked his lips, slowly. Hungrily.

 

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

 

Kaito smiled, teeth bared and leaned in to steal another kiss. “I have some ideas.”


	29. Distraction - Modern AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmph,” Ouma huffed, stomping his foot childishly and puffing out his cheeks, looking like a particularly displeased with its existence hamster. He stared at his neglectful boyfriend for a little longer, as if he’s been trying to make him pay attention to him with his glare alone. Seeing as Momota seemed to be determined to pretend he wasn’t even there he waited for a minute longer and then stomped out of the room.
> 
> As soon as he was out, Momota let out a quiet sigh of relief, sitting more comfortably on their little worn out sofa, the springs cracking under his weight. In the next few minutes, he kept alternating between reading and writing in his notebook, noting the information that he deemed important for the upcoming test and enjoying the blissful silence now that Ouma was gone.
> 
> He’s been so absorbed with his work that he hasn’t even noticed Ouma sneaking back into the room, soundlessly crossing the distance between the door and the sofa until he stood right behind his boyfriend.
> 
> Momota almost jumped when he felt a warm touch of Ouma’s mouth brushing against his neck in an almost-kiss.

“Momota-chaaaaan,” whined Ouma, shoving his whole body right onto Momota’s lap forcefully, almost knocking out the book he was holding. That earned him an annoyed look from Momota but he didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest, stretching his limbs like a particularly lazy cat and grinning up at Momota. “Pay attention to me!”

 

Momota grunted, shifting in place to accommodate better to the additional weight pressing against his thighs.

 

“‘m busy,” he grunted, trying to go back to his book.

 

“Buuut Momota-chan, you promised me,” Ouma continued to complain, reaching for the book in Momota’s hand and swiftly pulling it out of his grip. He was about to toss it away on the floor but Momota was faster, snatching the book away and then smacking Ouma on the head with it.

 

“Go and be insufferable somewhere else,” he growled, his eyebrows furrowing in an irritated grimace. He started to flip the pages of his book, looking for the one that he was reading before Ouma decided to be a nuisance and sabotage his entire astronaut career. “I have a test on Tuesday.”

 

“But that’s in three days,” cried Ouma in exasperation, a pout that in normal circumstances Momota would have found cute curling on his lips. “Momota-chan has time to read his stupid textbooks later. I need him nooow.”

 

“‘Kichi,” Momota groaned loudly, the look he sent his boyfriend bordering on angry, an unmistakable sign that Ouma’s been slowly crossing the line with all his whining. “What the hell do you want?”

 

“We ran out of whipped cream I need for my next prank,” Ouma sniffed pitifully, hoping to trick him into helping with his doe-like eyes welling with tears. “Go to the store with me? Pretty please?”

 

Momota scoffed.

 

“I don’t have time for your temper tantrums. You’re a big boy, you don’t need my fucking assistance.”

 

“But Momota-chan it’s important! If you were a good boyfriend you would help me in my time of need.”

 

Momota ignored him pointedly, finally finding the page he’s been looking for and reaching for his notebook to make some notes, a pen case bursting at the seams with markers in all colors and shades ready to help him highlight the most important notes.

 

“Hmph,” Ouma huffed, stomping his foot childishly and puffing out his cheeks, looking like a particularly displeased with its existence hamster. He stared at his neglectful boyfriend for a little longer, as if he’s been trying to make him pay attention to him with his glare alone. Seeing as Momota seemed to be determined to pretend he wasn’t even there he waited for a minute longer and then stomped out of the room.

 

As soon as he was out, Momota let out a quiet sigh of relief, sitting more comfortably on their little worn out sofa, the springs cracking under his weight. In the next few minutes, he kept alternating between reading and writing in his notebook, noting the information that he deemed important for the upcoming test and enjoying the blissful silence now that Ouma was gone.

 

He’s been so absorbed with his work that he hasn’t even noticed Ouma sneaking back into the room, soundlessly crossing the distance between the door and the sofa until he stood right behind his boyfriend.

 

Momota almost jumped when he felt a warm touch of Ouma’s mouth brushing against his neck in an almost-kiss.

 

“Wha--?”

 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

 

As soon as he opened his mouth, Ouma’s lips left his neck and his hands shot out, his fingers grazing the skin of his cheek until he cupped his face in his hands and stole his breath with a kiss.

 

Momota froze under him, surprised. Ouma’s lips were soft and sweet, the kiss tasting as his favorite tea. He could practically feel the tension leave his body, pouring out of him the instant their lips met, the familiarity of it pulling him closer to Ouma, until his right hand tangled in Ouma’s dark hair on instinct, curling a particularly long strand around his finger.

 

He opened his mouth just slightly as soon as he could feel Ouma’s tongue pressing against his bottom lip and a wave of heat crashed over him, coloring his cheeks with a pink tint. Encouraged by the fingers on his cheeks caressing his skin he raked a hand through Ouma’s hair, getting a good handful before he pulled him closer. He let Ouma push his tongue into his mouth, losing himself in the sensation.

 

When Ouma finally let go of Momota’s face he left him breathless and dazed, so overwhelmed by the intensity of the kiss that he could barely think through the haze of his mind. He struggled to open his eyes for a few moments afterward, already missing the sensation of Ouma’s lips on his.  

 

While he’s been trying to make some sense of what’s just happened Ouma’s mouth slid down his chin, nibbling and licking at the column of his neck, pressing butterfly kisses that felt almost out of place, so chaste and gentle, after the kiss they’ve just shared. He sat still, letting Ouma take control of the situation, his notes long forgotten. He shuddered when Ouma’s lips traveled further down until they rested in the crook of his neck, sucking greedily and coaxing a not-so-quiet moan out of Momota’s mouth. When he felt Ouma’s teeth graze against his skin he vaguely thought that with how the situation has been progressing he’ll be forced to wear a turtleneck tomorrow. However, he couldn’t really bring himself to care, even though he hated wearing those. Ouma alternated between soft and harsher touches, always a tease - something Momota’s learned to love him for.

 

Ouma kept attacking a single spot, sucking and licking and biting intently, relishing in the quiet grunts escaping Momota’s lips every now and then. It took him a long while until he finally pulled away to take a look at the hickey now adorning Momota’s neck right next to the slowly fading one he’s left a few days ago, seemingly pleased with his work. He leaned in, batting his eyelashes at Momota, his arms sneaking around his shoulder, pulling him closer and practically purring.

 

“Do I have your attention now?” Ouma asked teasingly, a note of smug satisfaction loud and clear in his voice. Momota could practically feel his grin ghosting over his skin.

 

Momota simply grunted, pulling him into another kiss.

 


	30. Observing - HPA AU Oumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi knows Kaito and Kokichi well and he sees things that other people don’t.

Shuichi is a detective.

 

He observes people, pays attention to all those little details that other people either don’t notice or simply ignore, too absorbed with everyday life to stop and over analyze every detail. But that’s what Shuichi does. Stores all those little things in memory, learns to understand them. It’s both a blessing and a curse, the constant buzz of his thoughts sometimes truly overwhelming, distracting him from things that really matter, obscuring the big picture.

 

But he notices.

 

He notices how Kokichi curves into Kaito’s body whenever he jumps on his shoulders and catches him by surprise, cackling like a mad man the entire time. He notices how Kaito’s knees buckle under his weight only for a fraction of a second until he straightens, strong arms adjusting Kokichi’s legs so he leans against him more securely despite the threats that he’ll drop him. Kokichi doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, simply teasing and mocking Kaito further, as if he hasn’t heard a word of what he’s been saying. Kokichi smiles, he always smiles, but this one is somehow different, not as strained around the edges as his usual ones, not as wide as they tend to be - the ones that make Shuichi wonder if he’s trying to stretch his lips as far as they can go. No, this one is different, not as wide but still just as bright and carefree. It feels more private, something reserved only for special occasions. When he smiles like that his whole face seems to smile. His eyes crinkle and he sticks his tongue out at Kaito and then immediately breaks into a run when Kaito rushes after him in a chase the same way he always does, every single time without fail.

 

It’s a lot of little moments, really, some of them seemingly so insignificant that it’s easy to miss them.

 

The way Kaito’s eyes always seem to find Kokichi’s face in a crowd. How Kokichi will look for any opportunity to wrap his hands around the astronaut’s bicep, clinging to him closely as he blabbers about some nonsense straight into his ear. How Kaito will accept his touch freely, leaning into it, Kokichi’s presence comfortable and familiar at this point. How sometimes they would share those rare and quiet moments, like that one time he found them hovering above the milk puzzles spilled over the table, brows furrowed and eyes sharp. They would exchange occasional comments, little jokes and jabs that lacked their usual hostility, just two people comfortable enough in each other’s presence to simply enjoy the other’s company.

 

Maybe he should have been more surprised that it came to this.

 

Somehow it felt like a natural progression, something that was bound to happen even if he would have never predicted it at the time. He isn’t entirely sure when the change took place. To someone who doesn’t know them maybe nothing really changed. But Shuichi knows them both well enough to tell the difference and sense the shift in their relationship. He sees the way Kaito eyes softens when they drift in Kokichi’s direction in class when he thinks that no one’s looking. Shuichi knows this expression, even though he couldn’t place it at first. Once he figures it out it becomes so obvious, though, because he knows that he’s seen it too many times to count. It’s the same way he stares at the starry sky, eyes filled with so much wonder that sometimes Shuichi feels like averting his eyes, almost as if he’s interrupting something special and intimate, something not meant for his eyes.

 

He had his doubts at first.

 

Kaito and Kokichi are opposites in so many aspects that it’s too hard to count, constantly clashing and arguing and fighting. It makes it so easy to overlook those smaller things and miss everything they have in common.

 

But the longer he observes, the more things suddenly make sense, the more things make him realize that whatever it is that is happening between the two of them was meant to happen from the very beginning.

 

They are two sides of the same coin, so similar in their differences that Shuichi almost can’t believe he missed that, falling to remember that appearances are deceiving. Even Kokichi - with all his masks and lies and deceptions - is undoubtedly human in the end and Shuichi doesn’t think he’s ever seen him more human than when he’s around Kaito.

So when he sees Kaito share his lunch with Kokichi or spots Kokichi clearly trying to catch Kaito’s attention or finds them arguing at the arcade about which gets to play next he can’t help but smile and wonder when they’ll figure it out.


	31. Pretending - VR AU Saioumota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More often than not Kokichi feels like an intruder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People on Tumblr seemed to enjoy it so I'm posting it here hoping that you'll also like it!

More often than not Kokichi feels like an intruder.

 

Warm smiles, encouraging words, this effortless easy kind of care that is so rare nowadays - none of this is reserved for him, even if he’s right here.

 

And so he pretends that he doesn’t see the shy smile that adorns Shuichi’s smile whenever Kaito enters the room, the same smile that turns oddly tense when it’s Kokichi who crosses the threshold. He pretends he doesn’t see the way Kaito’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance when he tells one lie too much when he crosses the line if only by millimeters.

 

Kokichi is a skillful liar but there are things even he can’t lie to himself about.

 

Not when the memory of the fist connecting with his face is still fresh in his mind, an embarrassing flinch impossible to suppress whenever Kaito’s voice gets a little louder or a bit harsher. Not when Shuichi’s words - _you are alone Kokichi; and you always will be_ \- echo in his head and he wakes up in the middle of the night, too choked up to scream. It’s silly really. It’s not like he’s never returned Kaito’s punches and he’s pretty sure that some of his lies must have left scars much deeper than any insult Shuichi would have ever thrown at him in a fit of righteous rage.

 

What Kaito and Shuichi have is easy.

 

It comes naturally to them, making their faces all soft and painting them with warmth and affection so clear that Kokichi feels like turning away and gagging into his clenched fist. There’s something disgusting and almost obnoxious about how smitten they both are. But no matter how much he wants to avert his gaze and march out of the room whenever that happens - he stays and he stares. And then stares some more, mesmerized. Because what they have is also beautiful, even if painfully so. The affection they share reeks of sincerity and even though Kokichi’s never been allergic to anything - he surely must be allergic to that because it makes his eyes all glazed, nose runny and honestly, he should probably go see a doctor or something.

 

The truth is that if it wasn’t for Kaito’s guilt he wouldn’t even be here.

 

The space idiot all but dragged him out of the hospital as soon as the doctors supervising his recovery deemed him ready to go back to the society - the same society that cheered for his death only a few months ago. He made sure that Kokichi had a roof above his head and a place to call home and Kokichi can’t help but think that they really shaped him to be the selfless hero he always wished to be.

 

Both Kaito and Shuichi pretend that this is where he belongs but they never were good liars to begin with.

 

Nowadays, he doesn’t get much sleep. So it’s not a surprise when he passes out when Kaito keeps flipping through the channels trying to find something that isn’t Danganronpa reruns. He wakes up hours later, the faint blue-ish light of their TV the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. He’s disoriented at first, eyes still blurry with sleep as he blinks rapidly trying to make out his surroundings. Slowly, the shapes of the room become cleaner, details easier to make out in the darkness. A small clock hanging on the opposite wall informs him that it’s 2:53 am.

 

Ironic, really.

 

His eyes fall on the couch occupied by two familiar figures. Kaitos head rests on Shuichi’s shoulder, chests rising gently to the rhythm of their breaths, synchronized. If Kokichi cared his heart probably would have clenched painfully and sent a familiar pang of something disgusting and wicked and ugly through his veins.

 

As it is, though, he only lets himself stare for a second too long and then scrambles to his feet and leaves the room, Kaito's starry blanket wrapped around his narrow shoulders and dragging on the floor behind him.

  



End file.
